


The Easy Way or The Hard Way

by inthesnowglobe



Series: The Easy Way or the Hard Way [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), The Rundown (2003)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Cliffhangers, Clusterfuck, Drug Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Humor, I Don't Know What the Hell I'm Doing, Kidnapping, Organized Crime, POV Multiple, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Torture, Underage Drinking, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence, anti-fluff, ok just a little fluff, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2017-12-26 04:50:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 49
Words: 84,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthesnowglobe/pseuds/inthesnowglobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>modern AU</p><p>The Hound is a retrieval expert for the mob boss "The Stag" Robert Baratheon. Someone owes The Stag money and Sandor Clegane is sent in to collect; in one way or another. It's been an easy and cushy existence in The Stags employment until things start to fall apart and Sandor finds things becoming ever more complicated for him. Kidnapping was not his area of expertise. Kidnapping Sansa Stark? That was a new low, even for him.</p><p>Ok... Warning: I have no clue where I'm going with all of this. I'm just kinda writing this shit as it occurs to me. I can't guarantee a nice fluffy ending for everyone so don't hate me when I go all GRRM on y'all and start killing people. Hopefully, this story will be funny, horrifying, suspenseful and sexy. Sorry it's taking so long to get to the "sexy" part, but it is on it's way. ^_^</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Heisman Winner

i. Sandor

 

This waiting shit was getting old. Had he known that The Stag meant for him to wait around in the snow, freezing his balls off, Sandor Clegane would have told "The Stag" Robert Baratheon to go fuck himself. Sandor hated the cold. He wore a heavy jacket with the hood pulled up, effectively hiding his twisted, very recognizable face. People in his line of work knew who he was and who he worked for. They knew that if they found the half burned face of The Hound snarling down at them that there were only two options. Option A: the easy way or Option B: the hard way. If they were smart they would choose Option A, though, it hardly mattered to Sandor. Sandor towered over most men at 6'6". His strength and years of experience living a hard life assured him that when Option B was chosen, he would be leaving with what he had come to collect. 

How much did this guy owe The Stag? 50k? Sandor would never understand what would compel people to gamble with that kind of money. Especially when the alternative to paying up was The Hound paying you a little visit. There were a number of reasons that Sandor had been hired by Robert. He knew what he looked like. If his physical stature wasnt intimidating enough, his face always elicited varying degrees of wincing from people when they met him. The burns had rendered the left side of his face completely ruined, twisting his features into a mask that did nothing to hide his resentment and barely contained rage. 

When Loras Tyrell finally emerged from Renly Baratheon's apartment building it was almost midnight. The nocturnal activities between Renly and Loras were no secret so when Robert had sent him to ferret out the Tyrell boy, The Hound had known were to start sniffing. For someone indebted to The Stag up to their eyeballs, Loras Tyrell wasnt exactly hiding. He strode out of the apartment building and down the sidewalk without a care in the world. Granted, Loras did belong to a powerful and very wealthy family, but the way he nanced down the fucking sidewalk like there wasnt a thing that could touch him infuriated Sandor. It screamed of young cockiness. Sandor was sure it was born from the silver spoon that had been shoved in his pretty face since birth and from the celebrity status that he had earned playing football at the college here in town. The kid had won the fucking Heisman trophy three years ago when he was only a freshman for christ's sakes. As The Hound followed his quarry through the city, he noticed how many people were out on the streets tonight. It made him less conspicuous but it would make shaking the kid down harder. He followed the Tyrell boy and just as he was about to approch him the boy ducked into a little bar just off of the campus grounds. It wasnt a surprise as Sandor followed him in that the Tyrell boy had come here to meet what appeared to be the entire defensive line for some shots and maybe some girls. 

Great. Just fucking great. Sandor hoped silently that this wouldnt get to messy. The team was going to a bowl game this year but that was a ghost of a dream with the entire defensive line and their first string star quarterback with broken appendages. 

"Loras Tyrell," he called out over the din of the bar.

The boy turned his carefree smile toward the voice, probably assuming Sandor was just a fan. The rest of the team were still obliviously going on as they had been. One boy was entertaining a pretty blonde that was sitting in his lap and giggling drunkenly at everything he said. Another was ordering shots of tequila for all of them and the two biggest guys had their elbows on the bar, hands locked in an arm wrestling match that had their faces red and strained from exertion. 

Seeing the size of Sandor, the kids face fell and became instantly disdainful.

"Look man, if you want on the team you have to get scouted and picked up just like everyone else. I dont have the hookup for coaches favors. You're a big guy though, you should do alright." He reached for a cocktail napkin and continued, "Who do i make it out to?" He pulled a Sharpie marker from inside of his sports jacket and signed the napkin in a practiced flourish.

A fucking autograph? This is one cocky little shit. 

Sandor took the napkin and stared at it for a minute as the little son of a bitch spun his bar stool around and continued carrying on with his teammates. The Hound felt his features morph into a scowl. He wadded the napkin and threw it at the back Loras Tyrell's pretty curly head. The boy flinched and whirled around. Confusion and anger plain on his face. Was it so hard to believe that maybe Sandor was here for something other than tonguing his royal asshole? The Tyrell boy rose from his seat and approached Sandor. 

"I think you dropped something," he spat.

Sandor lowered the hood of his jacket and turned his face so the boy could get a better look at it in the low light of the grubby little bar.

"I didnt come here for your goddamn autograph, you little prick," he spat.

As Loras recognized him the rest of the team was noticing the escalating altercation, recognition dawning on each of their faces as they took in The Hound. Sandor closed the gap between him and the Tyrell boy. To give him his credit he didnt shrink away or flinch, clearly emboldened by the teammates surrounding him. 

"A couple of months you made some bets with some people. You lost the wager and now those people would like to be paid. Fifty thousand if you remember correctly. Now Im sure that because you let Renly fuck that pretty little mouth of yours that you think you dont have to worry about paying his brother. You are severly mistaken." As The Hound was talking he noticed the looks of horror on the faces of Loras' teammates. Sure, Robert and Sandor knew all about Renly and Loras but it was a very well kept secret to the public and Sandor had pretty much just outed the boy in front of the whole bar. His twisted mouth turned up at the un-burnt corner. He knew the effect of his smile. It wasnt exactly endearing. 

Loras flushed visibly; a true admission of guilt. All of the people around them had their eyes on Loras.

"Does Robert Baratheon think he can send his dog to hustle me and make up crazy lies to get me to pay? Does he think I carry fifty g's in cash on me? You tell him I said that Im going to come see him next week and not to send his fucking dog nipping at my heels again, alright?" 

Sandor scanned the surrounding players. The two that had been arm wrestling had stood up and were glaring at him. They were as big as he was. One was just fat but the other one, the one wearing his jersey, was nothing but lean muscle. Sandor looked back to Loras Tyrell and saw that the boy was not even slightly abashed by what he had just said. This kid had spunk. It was going to get his ass kicked. 

"Look, I'll do you a favor. I'll pretend you didnt just say that. I like the team and the way the season has been going and I would hate for the star QB to go missing right before the big bowl game. Now, a rich little decorated athlete like you walks around with money. Not fifty thousand, but enough for a... a down payment. An act of good faith." Sandor was speaking calmly for the moment but he didnt know how long his patience would last. He had so little to begin with and this little fuckwit was getting under his skin. Who the fuck did he think he was? "Give me whatever you've got on you and I'll have The Stag call off the dogs."

"Fuck off. Im not giving you shit. I said he will see me next week. Get the hell out of here." Loras turned around and took his shot of tequila and threw it in Sandor's face. The liquor burned in his eyes and he knew that this was where his patience and control were gone. The whole bar had practically gone silent to watch the exchange. Everyone had been holding their breath until the little cocksucker had thrown his drink in his face, then everyone had gasped or whooped in encouragment. These innocent kids didnt know him. They had no reason to know him, but they knew Loras Tyrell. He was a goddamn athletic treasure. A promise to bring renown to their school. They thought this was a fight the Tyrell boy would win. They were wrong of course.

"Alright you little faggot, you have two options. Option A: the easy way or Option B: the hard way."

The Hounds words sent Loras Tyrell sputtering. Sandors answer was the two linebackers advancing on him cracking their knuckles and full of confidence. Sandor sighed heavily before he grabbed an almost full bottle of Jack Daniels from behind the bar. He poured a healthy measure into his mouth before he brought it across the face of the big one in the jersey in a backhanded stroke. The bottle and the boys face broke. The fat kid paused, thinking better about coming at The Hound who might as well have been foaming at the mouth from the looks he was getting. 

"You should have taken the easy way." 

He made short work of the remaining linemen. Two were completely unconcious and sprawled out on the floor. The one that took the bottle across the face was howling in pain and crying in the corner and the other one was still trying to draw in a breath after taking two well aimed punches. One to the left kidney and one in the solar plexus. That kid would be pissing blood in the morning but he was the only one that had gotten a hit in on Sandor. Sandor could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. Loras' eyes widened as Sandor turned his attention to him. The rest of the patrons had gotten as far away from the fighting as the the close quarters and crowd of bodies would allow. Loras turned to run through the crowd of people and out of the bar. Sandor picked up the nearest bar stool and flung it in the back of the cowardly little assclown. The Tyrell boy was flung forward on his face at the impact, screaming in pain. He knew that he could have broken the kids back throwing a fucking barstool into it but he was so heated he couldnt even pretend to care. Loras Tyrell was writhing in pain on the ground as Sandor stode over to him. He leaned down and spat into the arrogant pricks face, 

"Always choose Option A."

Sandor punched him out cold with one deft blow to the jaw. He patted the boy down and found a wad of money in his jacket pocket. He would count it later, but he was sure it would serve the immediate purpose. He ignored the stares that followed him as he undid the expensive money clip from the bills and threw a Benjamin at the appalled bar tender. She looked terrified as he reached behind the bar again and fished out another bottle of bourbon. Jim Beam this time. He let his eyes rove over her tight young body as he growled and poured in another dose of whiskey. Taking the bottle with him he made for the front door. The crowd of people more than happy to part for him. 

The Hound stepped out into the cold night again and started putting distance in between him and the bar. Robert had the police in his pocket but if they showed up he couldnt be guaranteed that it would be one of the dirty ones. He didnt feel like going through an empty booking process tonight. Drinking heavily from the bottle he made his way back towards the place where he had parked his car a block away from Renly's apartment building. 

When he got to it, he climbed in behind the wheel and fished his keys out of his jacket pocket. He turned the motor over and turned on the heater. He really hated this snow shit. The bourbon was starting to warm him from the inside but he still felt frozen. He grabbed his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. 

"Alright. The Tyrell boy has been taken care of. Im on my way back to your house."

When he hung up, he took another pull off of the whiskey and pulled his car out of the deserted parking lot. As he was making his way to The Stag's house on the outside of town, he suddenly noticed the blue lights flashing in his rearview mirror.


	2. It Doesnt Get Much Dirtier

ii. Bronn

He could hardly believe his luck. This had been an extremely boring night. The only thing halfway interesting that went down, was a call over the radio about an upset at Saltpans, a little shit-hole bar over by the campus. Some fucker had come in and swept the floor with the Tyrell boy and a handfull of his linemen. Bronn didnt know exactly who it had been but he could guess. It would have had to have been one big son of a bitch to make such easy work of them. He hadnt responded to that call but he could imagine that the officers who had were, right now, getting an acurate description of The Hound. Wasn't it also a funny coincidence that the unmistakable GTO in front of him had been flying in the opposite direction. He flicked on the blue lights and closed the distance between his cruiser and Sandor Clegane's hunk of 70's shit. He was going to have a lot of fun with this. 

Bronn and The Hound had never particularly gotten along. They had to interact minimally because they both worked for Robert Baratheon but they had been in a permanent pissing contest since the day they had met. Sandor had always looked at him like he was the enemy. He didnt seem to understand that Bronn had become a cop just so he could be a _dirty_ cop. It paid better. The Hound had had no love for him but Bronn didnt really think that The Hound had love for anyone. He was in a constant state of being pissed off. Loveable guy. 

The GTO pulled off into an empty parking lot, stopped and shut off the engine and the lights. Bronn pulled in behind him and got out of his car. As he approached the car he saw the window roll down. Behind the wheel Sandor was nursing an almost empty bottle of Jim Beam. He took a long pull and nestled it between his legs. His eyes were heavy and his lip was split. He looked up at Bronn with a casual and smug look on his face. He knew that Bronn wouldnt touch him. Not only was he Robert's favorite rabid dog, but there was that goddamn dash camera in Bronn's cruiser. He really hated that thing.

"Clegane."

"Asshole." 

Good. He was already mad about something. Antagonizing him was going to be easy.

"You've had an interesting night. I heard about Saltpans and while im no detective, when I hear that the Tyrell boy and a couple of his teammates are going to be sitting the bench thanks to some interesting injuries and then I pull you over in the middle of the night with a busted lip and a fucking bottle of whiskey.... It's not hard to piece together  _that_ mystery. " Bronn was already enjoying himself.

"Good job, Sherlock. You're a fucking genius." Sandor took another gulp of the bourbon and glared at him. "Was there something you needed?"

Bronn continued, "Im sure that i won't be alone in my brilliant ability to crack the case. Does The Stag like it when you cripple high profile marks in front of a crowd of people before you take an autographed shit on the floor? That bar has "Robert's Hound" written all over it and your pretty face is hard to forget."

Sandor looked away and sucked his teeth in clear agitation. "You dont tell me how to play my part, and I wont tell you how to play yours."

"Oh but I am playing my part."

"No. I make the messes and you clean them up. I take an autographed shit and you wipe my ass." 

Bronn bristled. Now it was his turn to become agitated. Sandor couldnt expect him to be able to clean up any mess he could dish out. Some messes went over his head. Some messes went over the captains head. Careless displays of obvious mob work were dangerous. Robert needed to get a grip on his dog before the rabid thing bit one too many people. 

"I also advise Robert when he's making too many messes."

"Then fucking advise him! I don't want to hear shit from you, Bronn! If Robert has a problem with the way I conduct my buisness then he can goddamn well tell me! Remember your place!"

Bronn glared down at Sandor as he finished off the bottle of Jim. "Be happy it was me that pulled you over. Anyone else would have you getting printed. Again." Bronn turned and headed towards his cruiser. "And get this piece of shit some working taillights."

Sandor turned the engine over and leaned out of the window turning back towards Bronn. "They are fucking working!" he called back pettily.

Bronn slammed the butt of his flashlight into the drivers side taillight, shattering it. "Doesnt look like it to me." 

Sandor's curses were cut off as Bronn got back into his cruiser, slamming the door. That was going to show up on his dash cam but he didnt care much. Captain Jaime Lannister had no affection for The Hound either. Sandor put his car into gear and screeched away, plainly furious. Bronn had enjoyed getting under his mangled skin but he hadnt expected to let The Hound get to him. There were several people who would have let him get away with a lethal blood alcohol level. The Hound and the Kettleblack brothers had always gotten along fairly well. Bronn had seen Clegane and Osney Kettleblack drinking and enjoying a pretty young girl on their laps on a few occasions. They were close to the same age. They were both still in their late twenties and they both were scarred and monsterous. Maybe thats where The Hound found some semblance of comraderie. Bronn certainly wasnt looking for a fucking friend in Sandor Clegane but he couldnt deny that it would make things smoother if they didnt hate each other so much. 

Something was going to have to be done about Clegane. He was getting reckless and cocky. 

_Remember your place_

_  
_If The Hound wanted to get himself killed with his attitude then it didnt matter one goddamn bit to Bronn, just as long as he didnt bring the whole operation down around all of their ears in the process. Just as long as Bronn continued to get paid, he didnt much care what games people were playing within the hiearchy of The Stag's operation. Hell, at one point he had worked for the fucking Starks. Ned and Catelyn had been nice enough people to work for but the Baratheon's paid him better, not to mention, he didnt know how well he could continue to behave himself around their daughter. Ned was a good boss but Bronn had no doubt that his head would roll if Stark had caught him between the sheets with his oldest daughter, the pretty little redhead.

Now that he thought about it, wasn't the Stark girl a bartender at Saltpans?

 

 


	3. Flawed Faces

iii. Sansa

"Ms. Stark, Im Officer Selmy and this is Officer Kettleblack, we need to ask you a couple of questions about what happened tonight."

Officer Barristan Selmy and Officer Osney Kettleblack couldnt have been more different from each other. Ofc. Selmy was pretty old but still carried himself with a serious dignity that was quite handsome on him. Ofc. Kettleblack couldnt be out of his late twenties and had a casual almost flippant air about him. He looked bored. Sansa thought he was hot. He was a pretty big guy, tall and muscular with artfully tousled, short black hair. A thin scar was traveling its way over his brow and down his cheek. He caught her staring at him and flashed her a knowing grin before she looked away, a blush creeping up her face.

"I'd like to help in anyway I can," Sansa said as her gaze met Ofc. Kettleblack again. Sansa noticed his eyes roving over her body. So did Ofc. Selmy.

"Osney, go get statements from the rest of the witnesses." Ofc. Kettleblack looked at Ofc. Selmy with an irritated glace before he turned and sauntered over to where the remaining witnesses were waiting.

The questions went on forever. Ofc. Selmy was nothing if not thorough; painfully so. Ofc. Kettleblack had finish filling out the paperwork on three witnesses and came to join his partner at the bar. Ofc. Selmy sighed and moved off his stool to get more information from everyone. Ofc. Kettleblack just smirked at his back before swiveling his stool around to where Sansa was standing behind the bar.

"Is this going to be much longer, Ofc. Kettleblack?" Sansa asked. She was exhausted and all she wanted to do was get back to her apartment and get some sleep before she had to go to class.

"Please Ms. Stark, call me Osney." He said in a smooth and deep voice. His light grey eyes were sparkling. Sansa thought he was beautiful. "Barriston certainly likes to beat a dead horse." He looked like he wanted to leave as much as she did.

"I'm sure that his diligence will pay off," she said. She wanted to be courteous but she tended to agree with Osney. This all seemed a bit excessive.

He scoffed and shrugged his muscular shoulders. "Come on, I'll walk you to your car. I dont think we need to keep you here any longer." He rose from his barstool and came around to the bar partition and raised it for her. She grabbed her purse and her sweater from a cabinet under the bar and started for the short hallway that lead to the office, stockroom and back door. As she passed him, she felt his hand rest gently on her lower back as he escorted her through the door into the alleyway behind the bar. A small shudder ran up her spine; one she was sure he had noticed. They walked in silence through the alleyway until they got to her car in a small gravel parking lot completely surrounded by buildings.

She fished her keys out of her purse and smiled shyly up at him. "Well, thank you for everything Of-Osney." She felt the blush on her cheeks.

He issued a low chuckle that was as melodious as music. He had such an attractive voice. "It was my pleasure to help such a lovely young woman, Ms. Stark."

"Please, call me Sansa."

"Well listen Sansa," he started as he pulled a card and a pen out of his pocket, "this is my card if you have anything else you would like to add or discuss. I'll go ahead and add my cell phone number on the back in case Im not at my desk. Feel free to call me if you need... anything at all."

"Thank you. I will."

He opened her door to allow her to get in and closed it gently behind her before he turned and walked back down the alley back to Saltpans.

By the time Sansa got back to her apartment it was 6:00 AM and her roommate was already up.

"Hey Sansa! Where were you all night?" asked Jeyne.

"Ugh.... bar fight. It was insane," Sansa said as she collapsed onto the couch.

"Well, Im glad you're ok. I got kinda worried." Jeyne's face went from concerned to coy in an instant.

"What?" giggled Sansa when she saw the look on Jeyne Westerling's face.

"Oh nothing, its just that you are, um... _glowing?_

 _  
_"I am not _glowing!"_ Sansa could feel her face blushing again.

"You are! Something good must have happened." Jeyne gasped. "Is it a guy? Is he hot?"

Sansa rolled her eyes and nodded her head.

"Oooh I knew it!" Jeyne squealed. "What happened? Did you hook up with him?"

"Jeyne! No! He was one of the police officers that came to Saltpans after the fight. He gave me his card and wrote his cell phone number on the back. Mmm.... he's so hot, Jeyne."

"Oooh! A cop," Jeyne teased. "What's his name?" 

"Kettleblack. Osney Kettleblack."

"I dont know of him. So are you going to call him?"

Sansa didnt know if she was going to call Of-Osney or not. The police made her nervous. She definitely couldn't imagine dating one. The Starks didnt fraternize with law enforcement. Sansa wasnt sure exactly what it was her father did but she knew it was far from legal. She had heard enough from everyone that she knew that it was all fairly harmless. Mostly embezzling and money laundering. Her father, Ned Stark ran everything with the help of her older brother Robb Stark, her cousin, Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy, a boy that Ned had adopted into the family as one of his sons. She had been raised with them and saw them all as her brothers. She had little interest in the seedy dealings of her family but still, what would happen if she got involved with a  _cop?_

 _  
_Jeyne was engaged to Robb. She knew about the families buisness dealings about as much as Sansa did.

"He's a  _cop...._ and Im a  _Stark."_

 _  
_"Maybe he's one of the crooked ones, like that one guy that used to work for your dad."

"Bronn?"

"Yeah, but a prettier version."

Sansa giggled. "I'll ask Robb or Jon about it next time I see them... are we still staying at Gendry's house next week? I want to do something fun while Arya is on Christmas break."

Gendry Waters was an employee of her fathers. Recently, he and Sansa's younger sister, Arya, had started seeing each other. Sansa and her brothers knew about the relationship but Ned and Catelyn didn't. Arya was only 17 and still in high school. Gendry was 23; the same age as Robb. They had all agreed to keep it quiet until Arya turned 18 next month. 

"Robb said he might have some things to take care of this weekend but that he would try to make it," sighed Jeyne. "He's always working."

"I'll convince him to come. Everyone else will be there and Gendry is throwing an awesome party for New Year's. He can't miss it." Sansa was sure she could convince him to blow off work for a bit. Gendry lived about and hour and a half away from the city but maybe Robb could at least make the New Year's party. 

"I hope so... and you can ask him about Mr. Kettleblack." Jeyne said with a wink. 

As she soaked in the tub after Jeyne had gone to work, Sansa reflected on the two scarred faces she had seen today. Osney' s finely chiseled face with just a whisper of an imperfection running down his cheek, and The Hound's. Sansa had described him to Ofc. Selmy but had refrained from using his name or psudonym. She didnt want the police to think she was involved in her families affairs. Though, he worked for Robert Baratheon, Sansa still had known who he was. She had heard her brothers talking about him and his disfiguring scars. Apparently, he had been burned. Sansa shuddered. She couldnt imagine having half of her face burned away. She remembered the way he had leared at her as he grabbed the bottle of Jim Beam from the bar. It wasnt sexy the way Osney had done, it was hungry and dangerous. He had terrified her.

Sansa shuddered again and tried turning her thoughts back to Osney, but she couldnt shake the mental image of The Hound devouring her with a spark in his eyes.

 

 


	4. New Challenges

iv. Osney

When Osney got to The Stag's house, Robert was on the phone and Cersei was no where to be seen. Osney wasnt here to talk to Robert though. He supposed that _technically_ he worked for Robert but it was Cercei Baratheon that he aimed to please. In more ways, than one. Osney wasnt sure how old Cersei was but he knew he was younger, and while she was beautiful and her pussy was still tight, Osney had the feeling that everytime she fucked him, it was just a means to an end. He didnt mind being used as long as she kept doing that awesome thing she did with her mouth, but he felt that these were dark waters he was treading in and without knowing exactly what game she was playing, he was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable being her pawn.

_When you play the game, you win or you die_

She was a ruthless cunt. He needed to find a safer conquest.

Margaery Tyrell had been fun for a while. She was a freak in bed and she had let him do pretty much whatever he had wanted to her. She had even brought in one of her friends and they had had a threesome that was something straight out of a porno. He had felt like a teenage virgin all over again while he had watched them 69 each other. Wet pink tongues swirling with wet pink pussies. He hadnt been able to hold himself back, he had thrust straight into Margaery's friend right on top of Margaery's face. That had been another one of Cersei's manipulations. He couldnt even begin to guess why the hell she had wanted him to fuck her sons girlfriend, but who was he to question when his boss comes to him and says, Hey Osney, fuck this young hot chick. Still, though, dark waters.

That Stark girl would be a good challenge, though, judging by the way she had looked at him, it wouldnt be that challenging. She was a Stark so that was iffy but he didnt think she had much to do with her dad's dealings, if anything at all. Hell, she hadnt even known who The Hound was. If she was even slightly privvy to her dad's buisness then she would have recognized that monster. The Starks and The Baratheons were close anyway; Ned and Robert had grown up together, he knew. He wondered if her brother would know him and tell her he wasnt one of the clean police officers and that he worked for the Baratheons/Lannisters. He imagined she would hear about it from someone. Bronn had worked for the Starks before. Osney made a mental note to ask him more about them.

Osney checked all of the common areas and offices looking for Cersei; he didnt want to walk into the bedrooms with The Stag around. He didnt want to look overly familiar. She was no where to be found and the house seemed practically deserted. Just Robert pacing the kitchen while he spoke to someone on the phone. Osney could tell it wasnt a serious buisness converstaion because he was talking loudly and laughing even louder.

Osney made his way outside to the pool. She wasnt out there either. In fact, the only person out here was Sandor. He was in the gigantic hot tub with his head laid back and his eyes closed. He looked to be asleep. If anyone would understand his need to fuck a new chick, it would be The Hound, and even better, he never pried to deep or asked too many questions. Quietly, Osney took off his shoes and socks and took his wallet and phone out of his jeans, placing them silently on the nearest chaise. An evil grin spread across his face as he started to sprint towards the hot tub. Fully clothed except for his shoes and socks, Osney cannonballed into the middle of the bubbling pool of water. When he surfaced, The Hound was ready for him. Sandor grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pulled him up to glare into his face, his fist was raised behind his head ready to deck whoever had disrupted him. For a second, Osney was sure he was going to actually punch him.

"Woah! Relax dude," Osney sputtered. Osney was a big guy, but Clegane was bigger.

"You splashed water on my face," Sandor said as he let go of Osney's shirt.

 _At least its not fire, asshole,_ Osney thought to himself. Snador would have drowned him then and there if he had actually voiced this thought.

He hadn't noticed while The Hound had had him in a death grip, ready to throttle him, but now that he had relaxed Osney notice that Sandor was completely naked.

"Are you naked? Dude! My face was under the water with your junk!"

Sandor just smirked and settled back down against the edge of the pool. "Stop staring at my cock, Kettleblack, though, I can imagine how hard it must be to keep from getting jealous."

Osney scoffed. "Like I need a reason to be jealous. You may be the bigger man but Im bigger where it counts."

Sandor rolled his eyes and said, "What do you even want, I've got a wicked headache."

"Hangover?" Osney teased.

"After that cocksucker and his pets gave me so much trouble, I needed a drink," Sandor said, closing his eyes and lying his head back again.

"Yeah, the Stark girl said you took a bottle of Jim to-go," Osney laughed.

"The Stark girl?"

"Yeah, man. That sweet little redheaded bartender. How the fuck didnt you notice her?"

"I was a bit busy trying not to get sacked by the fucking defensive line, but I think I do remember her. The look on her face was priceless." Sandor smiled to himself. "I'd fuck her."

"Shit man, Im trying to."

Sandor laughed. "What are you talking about?"

"She wants my dick. She was eyeing me enough, so i gave her my number. I think Im going to go by in a couple of days and "check up on her." She was melting from my charms." Osney waggled his eyebrows.

Clegane looked over at Osney with his eyebrows raised. "Good luck with that. She's a Stark and what is she, 12? Since when do you want to put in the effort to nail a prude virgin?"

Osney's eyes widened. "Do you think she's a virgin?"

Sandor laid his head back and closed his eyes again. "Im sure she is."

Osney jumped up out of the hot tub, clothes soaked through and dripping. "Challenge accepted bitch!"

Sandor looked up at him with a scowl on his face. If The Hound had any friends, Osney was probably the closest it got to one. He figured if anyone could get away with calling The Hound a bitch, it would be him. Still, he was on thin ice with that one. He stuck his tongue out at him, deciding to push his luck, and jogged back into the house before Sandor decided to get out of the hot tub and choke him.

As soon as he was through the door, he ran right into Cersei. She took one look at him and fury emanated from every pore in her body.

"What the _hell_ are you doing dripping all over my carpets?"

Robert had gone somewhere and Osney took a bold move towards her.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?!" she whispered vehemently. "Get the fuck out! I'll talk to you later."

"You said you needed me."

"Clearly, I was mistaken. I needed someone who hasnt taken leave of their senses. The Hound is going around town, tearing up bars and beating people to a pulp in front of half the town and _you_ think that you can just touch me whenever your little prick gets hard. Just get out; Im going find someone else to assist me."

As she stalked away, Osney heard her mutter, _Good help is so hard to find._

She was such a bitch.

 

 

 


	5. Shifts in Authority

v. Cersei

Good help was so hard to find. The Hound had been her first choice until he had pulled that little stunt at Saltpans when he went after Loras Tyrell. Discretion, apparently, was not his strong suit. Who knows _what_ the hell had been getting into him lately. She had considered Osney Kettleblack but he was too inexperienced for something like this. He was good for a romp when Jaime wasnt around and for setting up the little Tyrell slut that Joff had been dating. Basically, he was a walking cock.

She and Jaime had already been over this a hundred times. The only thing that they were lacking was someone to actually pull the trigger. Everything else had been settled. Her father, Tywin Lannister and her twin brother Jaime would clean up everything in the aftermath. Joffrey would be poised to take control and she could manipulate him as she saw fit. Once Joffrey was head of the family, she could bring Margaery Tyrell's indescretions out in the open. Mace Tyrell had been in the hospital with cancer for the past few weeks and Loras Tyrell was in debt to them for 50k plus the debt that his father was in to her father. The Tyrell family would be powerless.

Robert had allowed too many families to match theirs. Especially the Starks. Ned was a force to be reckoned with both in money and influence. He was smart and his people loved him. Not to mention, he had three sons, the oldest, Robb Stark had already grown into a high powered and well respected man. Then there was the grooming of a nephew and an adopted son for positions of power as well. 

Yeah, the Starks were a problem. 

It was time for a shift in authority within the major families. The Lannisters had always been powerful but not the most powerful. The Baratheons and the Starks had to be put in their places and that meant one thing. 

Robert and Ned needed to die.


	6. Brotherly Woes

vi. Arya

Finally! It was Christmas break! As soon as Arya got out of class, she started the trip to Gendry's. She had told her parents that she was going to stay with Sansa for the week. The last she had spoken to Sansa, she and Jeyne were going to be driving up to Gendry's later on tonight. Jon, Ygritte and Theon were coming tomorrow and Robb was still questionable. He might not make it until the New Years party. Arya hadnt met Ygritte yet but everything Jon had said about her sounded like she was a pretty badass chick. Arya suspected she was going to like her immediately. This was going to be a fun trip and the party that Gendry was promising sounded sick as fuck!

Once Arya was out of the city, she cranked up the radio and the heater, cracked the windows and lit a cigarette. She didnt smoke often but sometimes it was just a driving thing. She still had a while to go until she got to Gendry's house.

She was really excited to be spending some time with Gendry. They had been dating about two months and they had to constantly sneak around because she wasnt telling her parents about dating him until next month when she turned eighteen. By then, Robb and Jeyne would be living together and she and Sansa were going to share the apartment so she could come and go as she pleased. Her stomach fluttered. He was the only guy that ever managed to make her feel girly. He treated her like a lady even though she rarely acted like one. He had seen her put on pretenses around the house in front of her parents but he knew they were a facade that she put up to keep her mother off her back. Sansa was the lady. She didnt swear, she didnt smoke, she rarely drank and even when she did, she still held onto her dignity. Sansa had used to giver her shit about it but had let it all go once she had started college. Arya supposed she had been witnessing that there were worse ways to act. 

Yeah, Arya was a little uncooth but she wasn't slutty. She had only slept with Gendry once and that had been her first time. They would have done it again but there had never been a good opportunity. She didnt hold her virginity on a pedestal like Sansa did. Sansa was such a romantic. It was sickening. This week was hopefully going to be a good opprotunity to have sex with Gendry again as long as Robb and Jon didnt get over protective of her. Robb and Theon partied a lot so they shouldnt be a problem but Jon might be. He didnt party a lot and was usually quite serious. Out of all of her family, she had always been closest to Jon and they had always been more brotherly and sisterly than she and Robb ever were. He better not get all macho with Gendry and pull rank on him or some bullshit like that. Gendry wasnt blood and he was still working his way up the Stark chain. Jon had had the good fortune to be born into it. He was a Taragaryen but his mother had been Ned's beloved sister. Ned had always had a weak spot for Lyanna and therefore, her only child.

Arya finally pulled into Gendry's driveway about two hours later. Some snow had made the climb up the mountain take a little longer than expected. She hoped they didnt get snowed in or that the party didnt get snowed out.

Gendry met her outside with his dog, Nymeria, and a kiss. He took her bag and offered her his other arm and lead her up the steps to the front door. She almost slipped on a patch of ice but Gendry caught her.

"Careful mi'lady."

Arya righted herself and scoffed even though the butterflies in her stomach felt like they had turned into freaking hummingbirds.

They made it up to the front door without further incident and walked into the great room. If there was ever a house that was made for parties, this was it. Everything was open to everything else except the bedrooms and bathrooms, which were either upstairs off of a large loft or down a hallway towards the back of the great room. There were two fireplaces on either side of the main room with the large open kitchen towards the back corner. The entire back of the room was a wall of windows that looked out onto the deck and large hot tub.

The fireplaces were crackling happily and some delicious smell was emanating from the kitchen. Already, Arya didnt want to go home.

"Nymeria! Get down!" scolded Gendry. "Sorry, she seems to really like you."

Nymeria was jumping up on her and trying to lick her face but Arya didnt mind. She just laughed and rubbed her hands through Nymeria's soft warm fur. They were instantly friends.

"It's fine!" Arya laughed through dog kisses. "Im just glad she likes me. Id hate to have a dog as big as her mad at me."

"Well, push her off if she bothers you."

Nymeria was easily as tall as Arya and though Arya was a small girl, she thought that this was still an abnormally large dog. After a few more kisses and a couple more pats, Arya told Nymeria to get down and gave her a gentle shove. Nymeria obeyed immediately and followed her nose into the kitchen where something was smelling truely delicious.

"I wish she listened to me that well."

"Its a chick thing," Arya teased.

Gendry moved into Arya and wrapped his hands around Arya's waist. "Are you going to disobey me as bad as she does?"

"Im not the obeying type."

Gendry dipped his head low and kissed her passionately. Arya opened her mouth to him and reached up on her tip-toes to deepen the kiss. Arya felt the damn hummingbirds in her stomach again and inwardly cursed herself. She was turning into her freaking sister. She made a soft moan into his mouth before she could stop herself and Gendry pulled away to break the kiss.

"Thats what I like about you."

He kissed her nose and started towards the kitchen.

"Are you hungry?" he called behind him. "I started making some dinner. Sansa and Jeyne are coming tonight, arent they?"

The thing about Gendry that Arya would have never in a million years guessed was that he loved to cook. Arya had never tried any of his food but he had talked about it a good bit and if the smell of whatever was in the kitchen was an indicator, it was going to be the shit.

"Yeah, they should be here later. What did you make us?" she asked as she strolled into the kitchen.

"Well, I wanted to welcome you in style so I made chicken cord en bleu with rosemary roasted potatos and garlic parmesan broiled brussel sprouts. Wine?" As he spoke, he pulled a bottle of something white down from the wine rack on top of the refrigerator.

"Sure!"

Gendry poured a glass for each of them and leaned across the island where she was seated at one of the stools. He raised he handed her glass to her and said in a low voice,

"You know, Im really looking forward to spending some time with you this week."

Arya leaned in closer to him. "Me too."

He reached his body across the island to kiss her and she met him halfway.

 

"Woah! Jon, dont look! We're interupting something." Theon had come around the corner while they had been kissing and was now trying to push Jon back around the corner.

Gendry straightened up and looked slightly irritated but went over to greet Jon and Theon. "You cant ring a fucking doorbell? You're early. I thought you guys werent coming until tomorrow," he joked as they exchanged handshakes.

Jon seemed completely unphased by walking in on an intimate moment between Arya and Gendry. "We didn't want to miss anything," he said casually.

"When did I become the luggage bitch?" Robb called from the front door.

"Robb!" Arya called as she went to greet her family. "I didnt think you could make it!"

"Well, Sansa and Jeyne talked me into it. Dad isnt happy but I need a break," he said as he uncerimoniously dropped the bags in the door. "Theon, go take care of that shit."

"You got it Don!" Theon gave a mock salute to Robb and punched Gendry in the shoulder. The two of them went and picked up the bags and brought them into the great room to join Arya's things.

"What smells so good?" Robb said as he walked into the kitchen. "Can I get some wine?"

"Sure!" Gendry hurried towards the kitchen to pour it but Robb just laughed.

"This isn't work, Gendry. I can get my own wine."

Arya relaxed. Robb, Jon and Theon were pretty much treating Gendry like equals now that they were away from the hiearchy of buisness. Gendry came into the kitchen to flip the chicken and check on the potatoes.

"Aww! Isn't it cute? Gendry and Arya playing house!" chided Theon as he poured a glass of wine for himself and Jon.

Arya punched him in the shoulder. "Aww! isnt that cute? You pour Jon's wine for him!"

Jon snorted into the sip he was taking as Gendry and Robb erupted into laughter.

"Theon, the wine bitch!" Robb announced, bowing in mock to Theon. Theon just gave a crude gesture between his crotch and Robb's face while the two were on the same plane.

Robb just laughed and said, "You would like it if it were the other way around for once, Im sure," as he mimicked Theon's vulgar gesture.

Arya rolled her eyes. "Have any of you talked to Sansa or Jeyne? They are still coming tonight, arent they?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Theon, "I messaged her on Facebook earlier to tell her that we were coming early." He waggled his eyebrows, "She had a date."

"A date?!" Robb said; pouring himself more wine.

"She said she had an early date, you know Sansa, and that they would be here at about nine tonight," said Theon.

"With who?" asked Jon.

"I don't know him, but she said he was a cop. Osney Kettleblack. What the fuck kind of name is that?"

"What the fuck kind of name is Theon Greyjoy?" teased Gendry.

Everyone laughed but Robb and Arya. Sansa had told her that she was had spoken to a cop named Osney and that he was taking her out this afternoon but Arya hadnt made any significant connection. By the look on Robb's face, however, he had.... and it wasnt a good one.

 

 

 

 


	7. More Than Meets the Eye

vii. Sansa

She was meeting him at a new restaurant that she had been dying to try, The Lannisport. It was one of those places that served urbane $17 martinis and attracted the type of people that worked with her father. She was surprised that Osney, on a police officer's salary, would want to bring her here. Sansa was beginning to think that he wasnt _just_ a police officer. If he was one of the dirty ones, she wondered what family he worked for. She had never gotten around to asking Robb if he knew him and she couldnt very well ask Osney directly but she was really quite curious.

_Hey...umm.... you are a cop and thats cool but are one of the shady ones?_

Maybe she could bring up other people that they might know mutually. Maybe she should bring up Bronn, though she didnt know how she could work him into the conversation. Maybe she should say something about The Hound. With what had happened at Saltpans the other night, it might be something that could be worked in organically. She was a Stark. Her father was the head of one the most influential families in the country; her older brother was primed and ready to take over in his stead. Whether he was crooked or not, he had to know that she knew a little bit about this stuff.

This was looking like a mistake the more she thought about it.

 It was a blustery cold evening and she was regretting wearing such a short dress but she felt sexy in it. It was a boatnecked black number that skimmed her thighs at an appropriate length and though she had patterned tights on, which accentuated her long legs, they did little in the ways of warmth. Her white woolen coat was the same length as her dress and helped stave off the worst bites of wind. She checked her lipstick in the visor mirror before she braved the cold and hurried into the restaurant.

As she stepped into the dimly lit lounge, the warmth kissed her cheeks and made her hot beneath her heavy coat.

"May I take your coat, Sansa?" His smooth deep voice caressed behind her ear.

"Oh!" gasped Sansa. "you startled me."

She started to shrug out of her coat when she felt his fingers whisper over her bare collarbones as he helped her out of it. The back of her dress was very low cut and she knew that helping her disrobe from her coat to reveal so much skin was erotic to him. She could practically feel the weight of his gazes on her shoulders.

"Thank you," she said as she flashed him a playful smile.

She waited as he checked their coats and once more gently placed his hand on the small of her back to escort her to their table he had reserved. She writhed under his hand almost imperceptively but she could tell by the way he added the slightest amount of pressure, that he had noticed.

They were led to their table by a pretty young woman whose hair was as red as Sansa's. She was eying them strangely.

"Sansa Stark?" she asked.

"Yes?" Sansa asked glancing nervously at Osney. He just raised his hands in submission shaking his head. He didn't seem to have any idea why the girl seemed to know her.

"We haven't met yet, but I've heard a good bit about you from your cousin, Jon Targaryen, I'm Ygritte. We've started seeing each other. I've met Robb and Theon when they came in last night to meet with Ned." She looked over at Osney appreciatively. "Theon said you told him on Facebook about a date."

Sansa shifted in her seat uncomfortably. She looked at Osney as she blushed furiously. He had an eyebrow cocked questioningly. She wasn't sure which had piqued his interest, her mentioning their date to other people or the meeting of her families male heads. Sansa thought it was extremely careless for Ygritte to be speaking so frankly in front of someone she didn't know. Not much of a point in hiding it from Osney now.

Adopting her the most authoritative tone she could think of, one she had heard her mother use, she became a matriarch and said quietly,

It's lovely to meet you Ygritte but idle gossip and over familiarity will ruin your chances with Jon. This is neither the time nor the place for business related discussions. I'm sure that there will be a much more appropriate meeting for us to chat about what we have heard about each other."

Ygritte looked down at Sansa in shock. Clearly, this wasn't the reaction to her introduction that she had been expecting. Sansa was a bit shocked herself. She hadn't known herself where that had come from. Sansa prayed silently that Osney was involved in shady business himself. She didn't look very exclusive from any of her families indiscretions at the moment.

Ygritte's face went from shock to rage as she turned around and stalked off without a word. Osney gestured for another waitress to come and get them a drink.

"We will be needing another waitress and a bottle of Dom Perrignon please," he explained when the confused girl came over to them.

The girl left to get what he had asked for.

"So, a Stark in nature as well as in name," he said as he leaned on the table to stare her down.

This wasn't how Sansa had seen this conversation going. She didn't let her expression reveal her nerves as she replied with a shrug of her shoulders, "Its kind of a package deal."

"Yeah, I've heard that Ned has tried to shake down Cersei Lannister," Osney confided as he leaned in even farther. "I also know that you know little and less about any of that."

"And how would you know what I know?" she said with a coy smile.

"Because I work for the Baratheons," he said in a deep and low voice. "Not to mention, I work pretty hard to keep the Baratheons and the Starks from having dossiers an inch thick."

So, a Baratheon guy. That was a relief. Most people would hear that he was corrupt but Sansa didnt mind. Her father and brother were "corrupt" but they were good people. They just lived outside of the law a little bit. Her dad and Robert had always been close. The families never feuded, though the Lannisters were not their best friends. Maybe it had had something to do with what Osney had said about her dad shaking down Cersei. Maybe this wasn't a mistake. They didn't have to complicate things with anything physical and since they both knew that she stayed out of business stuff, there wouldn't be the issue of conflicting interests.

Sansa was about to tell him how wonderful it was to have someone like him helping her family; she hand even made the move to touch his hand as she spoke, the champagne making her feel bold, when she noticed his face fall and his eyes focus on something right over her shoulder. She turned around to see what had so quickly diverted his attention and immediately, her heart was in her throat. The Hound had just walked in the door and was making his way to the bar, which they were dangerously close to. His eyes landed on Osney as he passed but when he looked over his shoulder his eyes bore into her and she had that same feeling of being prey that she had that night when he had torn up Saltpans.

He sat at the bar next to someone unfamiliar to her and started talking. She turned back to Osney and said in a whisper, "That's him. The Hound. From the bar." She didn't even notice that her hand was still on Osney's. "Do you know him? He works for Robert too."

"She recognizes me. I'm flattered."

His harsh and gruff voice seemed to resonate through her entire body from right behind her ear. He was so.close, she could feel the heat from his breath stir her hair. She visibly tensed as she met Osney's eyes. He looked... almost defeated. She turned her head and met his stormy grey eyes inches from her own, stealing his breath as she breathed hard and fast.

As he straightened up to full height, he looked to Osney but she couldn't take her eyes off of The Hound.

"Osney," he greeted.

Osney met her alarmed gaze for only a moment before he rose from his chair and walked around the table with his hand extended.

"Sandor."

The Hound looked down at her again and scoffed as he took Osney's hand and shook it with a slight grin threatening the corners of his mouth.


	8. Surrounded by Lions

viii. Sandor

It was the first thing that Sandor saw when he walked into the Lannisport. Osney with a girl. Osney with the Stark girl. Sandor could see her copper hair falling in waves around her shoulders. That had to be the girl from Saltpans. Even from this angle he could tell that was her. Sandor scoffed inwardly as he made his way towards the bar. Osmund was waiting for him to get a drink. Osmund knew that this was where Osney was bringing the Stark girl on their "date" and wanted to come to observe Osney's attempts at getting a girl into bed the old fashioned way. Sandor was hard up for entertainment tonight and could think of nothing better to do, so when he got Osmund's text he headed straight over. Osney and the girls table was painfully close to the bar where Osmund and Sandor were sitting and Sandor heard her when she asked Osney about him.

_That's him. The Hound._

"She remembers me. I'm flattered."

He saw her shoulders tense as he growled into her ear. He could practically smell the musky scent of fear on her over the sweet smell of her hair. It smelled like pears.

He found himself wanting to lick the smooth skin under her jaw.

She turned her wide blue eyes to his. He could smell the champagne as they shared the air in the small space between their faces. He wasn't sure why but he found himself having to exercise extreme restraint so he didn't lean forward and steal a kiss. Her red lips were parted as she panted in fear and he wanted nothing more than to ruin that pretty lipstick on her full soft lips.

What the hell had gotten into him? He couldn't remember the last time he had kissed someone. It had been a good while since he had fucked anyone but even then it had been one of The Stags whores. He had not been even slightly interested in her mouth outside of what it had been doing to his cock. Sansa Stark was certainly no whore. She was the daughter of Ned and Catelyn Stark and that was saying a lot. He could see why Osney was trying so hard.

He straightened himself up before he gave into his impulses and met Osneys glare. He knew Osney didn't have the balls to be pissed at him. He just looked... defeated.

"Osney."

He noticed the girl whip her head around to Osney as he got up from the table. Osney walked around the table with his hand outstretched.

A handshake? Really Osney? 

"Sandor."

Sandor scoffed but took Osney's hand anyway. He was rewarded by a small whince as he squeezed Osney's hand a bit too hard.

Sandor suddenly didn't want to be around Osney at all. He didn't know why but he was really pissed off him. What had happened in the past minute that had changed his mood so drastically? Sandor refused to believe that it could be the girl.

He looked down at her one more time and walked off without a word.

Judging by the look on the Stark girls face, Osney's mere association with him had probably ruined his chances with her. Sandor cursed himself. He didn't know if he hated himself more for being happy about that or a bit disappointed by that. Why should he give a shit where Osney put his dick? He had listened to Osney boast on many occasions who he had fucked. Osney hadn't shut up for days after he had had that threesome with Margaery Tyrell and her friend and that had never bothered Sandor. Why was Sansa Stark any different? He remembered the way she had looked at him the night he had followed Loras Tyrell into Saltpans. It was the same terrified look that had met him tonight. He couldn't blame her much for her horror the night at Saltpans. He had almost fucking killed a couple of kids her age. Hell, she probably knew them. She was probably no different than any other girl and was probably in love with the Tyrell boys pretty looks and celebrity status and she was supposed to be what, _happy_ about a monster coming in and damn near killing him?

He vaguely remembered wanting to either eat her or rape her as he took the bottle of Jim Beam from the bar.

Now, here at the restaurant, she was going to judge people based on them knowing him. Well, that was fine with him.

_If I can't have her, Osney sure as hell isn't going to have her either._

Sandor was about 5 drinks into his whiskey induced stupor when she walked right behind him and down the hallways to the bathroom. Osmund had left about three drinks ago and there was some kind of fucking plant thing that had kept him hidden at his corner of the bar.

She had been smiling. 

Those smiles had been for Osney. She was buying into his chivalrous act and by the looks of it was eating it up.

When Sansa came back up the hallway, Sandor couldn't stop himself from reaching out and grabbing her by the arm. He pulled her in close to him. When her body collided into his, he could feel through her dress what he had noticed earlier when he had looked down at her graceful back, she wasn't wearing a bra and he just make out her hardened nipples through the thin fabric. He had that feeling of wanting to take her and make her his again.

"You know girl," he snarled in her face, "there are worse monsters out there so you can stop looking at me like that."

She gasped and looked away from his face. "I'm sorry if I've offended you, sir. I didnt-"

"What the fuck did you just call me? _Sir?_ " he glowered down at her. "I'm fucking 32 years old, not 52 and definitely not deserving of your little courtesies. So spare me. You think that I'm the most dangerous thing out there? Sometimes things aren't what they seem. Osney, he just wants to fuck you. Not make you his princess. I haven't heard anything else since he met you at Saltpans." 

Sandor had no idea why he was going through all of this but he knew he didn't want Osney getting anymore of her than she had already given him. No more smiles and flirtatious touches.

"I'm not the monster that you should be scared of," he said as he let her go. 

She looked up into his eyes, the hurt plain across her face. It was a look that Sandor could go the rest of his life without seeing again. She was so naive. Life wasn't a love song and he was the one who had killed an innocence inside of her. It was for her own good.

"Why are you telling me these things?" Her lip trembled as she spoke.

"Someone has to save the little bird from the lions."


	9. What the Heart Wants

viiii. Theon

 

Not long after Robb, Jon and Theon had arrived at Gendry's house, Arya got a text from Sansa saying that she and Jeyne were coming up earlier than they had planned. About two hours later, the girls were walking through the door. Neither of them had expected to see Jon and Theon there that night and neither of them expected to Robb at all. As Jeyne ran into Robb's arms, Robb spilled some of the wine out of the glass he was holding. The ferocity with which he kissed Jeyne indicated that he hadn’t even noticed.

 

Sansa moved to Jon to hug him as his jaw dropped at the sight of her.

 

“You wore _that_ on your date?!” he said as he eyed her.

 

She rolled her eyes and came to Theon to embrace  him in greeting.

 

“She's radiant. Leave her alone,” he said as hugged Sansa. Her hair smelled like pears.

 

“Thank you, Theon,” she said narrowing her eyes at Jon.

 

Her nipples had been hard beneath the thin fabric of her dress, forcing Theon  to swallow past the lump in his throat as he felt them press against his own chest.

 

“How else do you expect Sansa to get a date if she doesn’t use her rockin' bod? Her winning personality?” Arya teased.

 

“Yeah, and that worked so well for me tonight,” Sansa said sarcastically.

 

“What happened?” Robb asked tensely.

 

Jon had always been the protective one over the girls. Robb rarely concerned himself much with their personal lives, but he had been noticeably agitated since Theon had told them about Sansa's date with Osney. Theon had been counting on Jon to be the one to object and though Jon was obviously interested in what Sansa had to say, it was Robb that was overly tensed.

 

What did Robb know about Osney Kettleblack that he and Jon didn’t know?

 

“Nothing really happened. It was just disappointing.” Sansa said sadly.

 

“Who is Osney Kettleblack?” Arya asked.

 

“He works for the Baratheons. He's a cop... like Bronn.” said Gendry. “I think he's coming to the party.” Gendry looked uncomfortable.

 

“Why would he be coming?!” Arya said as she punched him in the shoulder.

 

“How was I supposed to know?” Gendry exclaimed defensively. “Bronn was coming and Osney would be an extension of that...”

 

Theon glanced at Sansa to gauge her reaction but she just looked tired and slightly amused.

 

“Its fine,” Sansa laughed. “Nothing happened you guys. Really... its fine.”

 

Theon seized his opportunity and moved in to hug Sansa again.

 

“Well, we'll be here to keep him away from you if that’s what you want.” She smiled and snuggled into his shoulder.

 

Jon and Theon made eye contact for a moment before Theon shifted his eyes away. Jon had only brought it up once but Theon knew that Jon was onto him. Theon had always loved Sansa. She would never see him as anything but a brother but he wasn’t. They weren’t related at all. Once, when they were little, they had kissed. Theon would cling to that memory for the rest of his life. Sansa saw him as a playboy but that was only because no one could ever hold his heart the way she did.

 

Theon was snapped out of his fantasy of life with Sansa when they heard a voice at the door. It was Ygritte. Theon felt Sansa tense against his side at her voice. He looked questioningly down into her face but she just shook her head and rolled her eyes. Theon smiled and continued to look at her delicate features even after she had looked away. Robb cleared his throat pointedly and when Theon looked back up, Robb was glaring right at him.

 

Everyone went to greet Ygritte except for Sansa who went into the kitchen. Theon followed her in and found her looking through the cupboards for a glass.

 

“Let me,” he said.

 

Sansa sighed heavily and said, “Thank you, Theon.”

 

He poured her some wine and handed her the glass. His fingertips brushed hers and lingered on the glass before he let go. Her blue eyes met his green ones with a confused look that dawned into shocked understanding. Theon took a step closer to her, closing the short space between them. Sansa's wide blue eyes didn’t leave his and she didn’t back away.

 

“Sansa,” he whispered to her.

 

Theon had started to dip his head to kiss her when everyone came back into the kitchen. Jon and Ygritte were the first around the corner and thankfully the only ones who had noticed that they were interrupting something. Theon went to pour himself more wine and join in on the laughter and conversation with everyone when he noticed Sansa and Jon still looking at him.

 

“Anyone else need more wine?” he said trying to distract everyone.

 

“Yes,” said Jeyne extending her glass to him. “That, and Sansa and I need help with our bags,” she addressed to the men in the room. Robb scoffed and looked pointedly to Jon and Theon.

 

“Who's the luggage bitch now?” he said.

 

Theon rolled his eyes and followed Jon out of the kitchen. They went to Sansa's car and popped the trunk to get her and Jeyne's things.

 

“Just make sure no one sees you sniffing Sansa's hairbrush or anything,” Jon said with a smirk.

 

“Shut up, asshole. I don’t want to sniff her hairbrush,” Theon said as he hoisted a bag out of the trunk.

 

“Listen,” said Jon, giving Theon pause from climbing the steps to the front door. “Robb is starting to get suspicious. Just tell him about Sansa. If she doesn’t have any objections, I don’t know why he or Ned would. You aren’t Osney Kettleblack.”

 

“What do you know about him?”

 

“Nothing,” Jon said shaking his head. “But Robb does and he's not happy about her dating him.”

 

“I’m going to ask Robb tomorrow,” Theon said.

 

Jon looked pensive as he nodded. “Id like to know too. Sansa worries me a lot more than Arya. Hell, I worry about Gendry more now that he's with Arya. You know Sansa though, she's too trusting and I know that the way she was dressed tonight did not escape your attention. She's beautiful. She attracts a lot of attention, especially being a Stark.”

 

“Did Gendry tell you who all was going to be at this party?”

 

“Who the fuck _isn’t_ going to be? Gendry is a cool guy and everything but he isn’t very privy to the serious side of our business affairs. This party makes me nervous and its making Robb nervous too.” Jon sighed heavily.

 

“I wouldn’t worry. None of the families are at each others throats, and the Starks have always been friendly with the Baratheons. Is that little prick Joffrey going to be there?” Theon asked warily.

 

“Yeah, I think so,” Jon laughed. “I hate him too.”

 

Theon picked the bag back up and started towards the steps. “Come on. I’m freezing my ass off. Let's go in.”

 

 

The next day Robb, Jon and Theon went down the mountain to the liquor store to stock Gendry's bar. Robb was unusually quiet. They picked up several bottles of the basics and were shopping for the specialty shit when suddenly Robb broke the tense silence,

 

“Jon, could give Theon and I a moment, please?”

 

Jon and Theon exchanged a look before Jon nodded his head in assent and went to wait in Robb's BMW.

 

“How long have you been a part of out family, Greyjoy?”

 

Theon shook his head. “Since before I can remember.”

 

“Then how is it that Jon knows that you are in love with Sansa and I don’t? Were you afraid to tell me or were you afraid to tell her?” Robb asked sadly. Subtlety was never Robb's strong point. “Jon was always much more of the brotherly type to the girls than I was. He was the one that was protective of them the way a brother should be. I was always too focused on working with Dad.”

 

“I didn’t tell Jon. You know how observant he can be. He's quiet so he can watch and listen more.”

 

“So you aren’t denying it?” asked Robb looking Theon in the eyes.

 

Theon took a deep breath and said, “No. I don’t deny it. Sansa has always been very special to me. I have never seen her as a sister.”

 

“You know she sees you as a brother.” It wasn’t a question.

 

“That’s why I’ve never said anything,” confessed Theon. “Robb, who is Osney Kettleblack?”

 

 

After the bottles of liquor had been boxed up and put into the trunk of Robb's car, they made their way back up the mountain to Gendry's house.

 

“How long have known about this?” Robb asked Jon when they were on their way. “How long have you known about Theon wanting to fuck my sister?”

 

Theon choked on the gulp of water he had been taking. “Now wait a m-” he sputtered.

 

“I was asking Jon,” Robb said shortly.

 

Jon simply shrugged his shoulders. “Quite a while, but in his defense, I don’t think fucking has ever been his main objective with Sansa. Although, being the horny slut he is, I don’t think he would mind much.”

 

“Hey, assholes!” Theon exclaimed. “You know I'm right here in the back seat!”

 

“You aren’t worried about Theon though, are you? Why did Osney Kettleblack bother you so much?

 

Robb sighed. “I just don’t like the idea of her dating him. He's friends with The Hound for one. I’ve never met Sandor Clegane but  I know he's a brutal motherfucker. He damn near broke Loras Tyrell's back at Saltpans. He's dangerous and it stands to reason that anyone that befriends him would be too.”

 

Jon nodded his head and took a thoughtful sip of his water.

 

Robb continued. “And from what I’ve heard from Bronn, Theon is nothing compared to Osney. Talk about a horny slut...”

 

“Excuse me!”

 

“He treats women like they're conquests. They think he's handsome and charming until he fucks them and then tells everyone about it. Bronn said he even has a rating system and a  list.” Robb shook his head. “Im not going to lets him fuck my sister and then tell everyone how she scored.”

 

Theon was seething by the time Robb was finished. He wasn’t going to let that happen either.

 

“Especially since she is still a goddamn virgin,” Robb said in exasperation.

 

Jon and Theon looked up at Robb with raised eyebrows.

 

Robb looked over at Jon and shrugged his shoulders. “Jeyne tells me things. Look, Osney is not going to be our focus at this party anyway.”

 

“What is it? Getting wasted and trying to make sure no one takes a video?” laughed Theon.

 

Robb smiled but shook his head. “Not this time, Greyjoy.” Jon just rolled his eyes. He was always so serious. “Dad and Mace Tyrell have been talking. Joffrey Baratheon is going to be our focus.”

 

 


	10. A Brand New Year

x. Arya

 

The week leading up to the New Year's party had gone by quickly. The lighting had been set up, the bar had been stocked and a 6 hour playlist had been programmed into Gendry's home Crestron system. Sansa and Jeyne had been spending the day primping and trying on _every single_ piece of clothing they had brought with them. Arya, on the other hand, had showered and put on jeans and a t-shirt. She had spent some time with them gossiping and giving them snide opinions on their efforts until Sansa had gotten ticked and sent her away. The girls had been actively been shunning Ygritte ever since she had arrived. She wasn’t the girly type either so Arya had gotten along with her since the beginning. Sansa and Jeyne had noticed the quick bond forming and had been guarded about everything they said about Ygritte in her presence. Arya didn’t see what the big problem with Ygritte had been but there was clearly something about the girl that they didn’t like. Sansa and Jeyne could be overly courteous in certain situations but they were definitely the “popular girl” bullies. 

 

Theon had placated Sansa about everything she had pranced around in because he had always wanted to get into her pants but Arya wasn't about to play the girly type with them. She would rather spend her time with Gendry or with Jon and Ygritte. Robb had been so tense lately that he made even her nervous. Probably some business matter that didn’t concern her in anyway. He was always so work oriented.

 

Theon would have been fun if Sansa hadn’t been there.

 

Arya and Gendry had had a few private moments but he was so busy orchestrating the preparations of the party that someone was always wanting his attention for one thing or another. Arya was waiting until the chaos of the party to have an intimate moment alone with him. She was really just looking forward to having drunken wild sex with him again. She smiled at the thought.

 

This was going to be a fun night.

 

She found Gendry and Robb huddling together in some sort of conversation that, judging by the look that Robb shot her, was something that was not meant to be interrupted so she went to find Jon and Ygritte. They were outside in the hot tub and while they were descent, it was clearly not an occasion for a third wheel so Arya made her way up to Sansa's room.

 

When she arrived right outside of her door, something gave Arya a moments pause. She and Jeyne were discussing Sansa's date with Osney.

 

“That's what he told me. I don’t know what to make of it.” Sansa was saying to Jeyne.

 

Arya leaned into the crack in the door so she could hear everything.

 

“The Hound?!” said Jeyne.

 

“I know!” Sansa said laughing. “He was terrifying but it made me think, you know? I thought they were friends.”

 

“Sansa, this is coming from the guy who tore Saltpans apart.”

 

“I know....”

 

“I wouldn’t take anything The Hound told you to heart. I mean Osney is a police officer.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And _he_ thinks that _he_ isn’t the only monster out there?! He's fucking right about that! His brother is the one to worry about. Gregor is seriously scary. I’ve heard Robb talk about him. That whole family is just something you don’t want anything to do with. Keep Sandor Clegane out of your head. Was he drinking?”

 

“Yeah...”

 

“He was probably just jealous.”

 

Sansa laughed. “Of what?! ME?”

 

“Maybe... The Hound saying that Osney is dangerous is kind of the pot calling the....”

 

Both girls erupted into laughter.

 

Arya decided that now was a good moment to pretend that she hadn’t heard anything and walk in on a random moment of laughter.

 

“Hey bitches!” she said as she strolled into the room.

 

“Hey Arya,” said Jeyne.

 

“Don’t call us that,” chided Sansa.

 

“Are you guys excited for tonight? With all that shit you have been trying on all day, I would imagine you are,” Arya teased. “Is it for Ooooosneeeey?”

 

“I don’t particularly want to see him, okay?” Sansa looked exasperated. “It was just a date.”

 

“San-” Jeyne started before Sansa elbowed her in the ribs.

 

_Was she going to say Sansa or Sandor?_

 

“Ok! God!” Arya was really bad at coercing information out of someone, especially her sister. She needed Jon. He would get anything out of Sansa. He was the type that was comfortable and safe. Someone you could confide in.

 

 

The night came quickly and before she knew it, the house was full of people. The music was pumping and the drinks were flowing freely. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits but Arya sensed something was really wrong with Jon. He was particularly sullen and even though he was the most serious out of all of them, his smiles were forced every time Arya tried to cheer him up.

 

Arya didn’t recognize a lot of the people there but there were some people she knew. She scanned the pulsing crowd of bodies in search of Gendry or Ygritte. Ygritte had long ago abandoned Jon to his surly mood hoping to have a good evening in spite of his serious attitude.

 

Arya saw Robb and Margaery Tyrell laughing and talking with a large group of people on the couches. It was a good thing that Joffrey hadn’t gotten there yet. She didn’t know what Robb and Margaery were doing being so damn chummy with each other but Robb was playing fire. The last thing they needed was a family feud over a freaking girl. Loras Tyrell was with Boros Blount and Meryn Trant and a couple of other members of the football team that Arya didn’t recognize by the bar. He was trying his best to ignore Renly Baratheon dancing with Arianne Martell. She was beautiful and exotic but Arya didn’t know why Loras was getting his panties in a twist. Its not exactly like Renly was using her for anything other than a cover.

 

Asha Greyjoy was Theon's biological sister. She was arm wrestling some guy in the kitchen and she was winning. Arya suspected that she was just toying with the poor boy.

 

Just then, she noticed a group of people by the door part slightly as Osney Kettleblack, The Hound and Joffrey Baratheon walked into the room. Osney was smiling and dancing the moment the music hit him. He instantly lit up the room. Arya could understand why Sansa had been so charmed by him.

 

Joffrey was wearing the same smug smile he always wore. The girls loved his blonde hair and fine features but Arya knew he was a cruel and whiny little momma's boy. She remembered the time when they were kids that he had tortured a kitten for fun. He had cried to his mother when Arya had given him a black eye.

 

The Hound wore a sneer as he made his way directly to the bar. Loras, Boros and Meryn basically tripped over each other to get away from him but he was ignoring everyone and everything.

 

Gendry was no where to be seen.

 

As Arya was looking around, she found Bronn sitting with a girl on his lap. When he saw Arya, he smacked the girl on the ass to make her get up and shoved right through the middle of a group of harassed looking girls to come over to her.

 

She and Bronn had always gotten along very well. He had worked for her parents some time ago before he had gone into the service of the Baratheons for whatever reason but he had never been a stranger to the family. Especially Arya.

 

“Hey sweetie!” he greeted her.

 

“Don't call me that,” Arya gazed up at him. “I’m not sweet; you must be confusing me with my sister.”

 

Bronn laughed and took a sip out of his Solo cup. “Aren't you a little young to be drinking?” he said as he eyed the drink in her hand.

 

“Aren’t you a little old to be at this party?” Arya shot back.

 

“God, you are a bitch aren’t you?”

 

“You know it!” Arya said as she pulled deeply at the Redbull and vodka in her cup.

 

“You wish...” he said as he hugged her around the shoulders and motioned towards something with his cup. “What the fuck is that?”

 

Arya looked in the direction of his hand and noticed Theon and Sansa talking in a corner. The body language reeked of sexual tension. Sansa was laughing and drinking from a cup of her own. Theon looked elated.

 

“Trying to forget Osney?” Bronn said into her ear over the pounding of the music.

 

“What do you know about that?” Arya said.

 

Bronn shrugged his shoulders. “I just heard about it. They had a date right?”

 

Arya nodded.

 

“I heard that The Hound ruined _that_. Osney is a fuckwit anyway but really,” he said looking into her eyes. “Keep her away from Clegane. Dude is a total dick.”

 

Arya scouted the crowd for The Hound and came up empty. He had left his post at the bar.

 

Just then a song came onto the playlist and Bronn eyed a girl that was dancing to it.

 

“I'll see you later kiddo,” he said without taking his eyes off of the gyrating blonde on the dance floor.

 

Arya noticed Sansa get up and go pour herself another drink. That's when Osney showed up and came over to her. He dipped low to say something into her ear. Theon tensed and eyed them but suddenly he was gone.

 

Sansa was a big girl, albeit a naive one. She could care for herself.

 

Arya went to go find Gendry. He was entertaining Joffrey, Margaery and Robb. They were all laughing.

 

She didn’t want to talk to Joff or Margaery so she moved towards the front door.

 

She was making her way out onto the front porch away from the havoc of the party so she could smoke a cigarette when she felt a firm hand around her arm and was spun into the face of The Hound.

 

“You shouldn’t be here girl. Where is the little bird?”

 

_Who the hell was this “little bird?”_

 

“This is my boyfriend's fucking party. Why wouldn’t I be here?” she spit up into his twisted face.

 

“Its not safe,” he snarled.

 

“Let me go!” she started to scream but he put his hand over her mouth.

 

“It's not safe,” was all he said. “Get her out!”

 

_Get who out?_

 

That’s when Arya heard a scream from inside the house.

 

“Don't leave her around Osney,” he told her urgently.

 

She felt his hand leave her arm and he was gone. Arya gaped. What the hell was that?

 

Arya heard more screams from inside the house and was snapped back to reality. She opened the front door and ran inside, pushing people out of the way as she parted her way through a circle of people.

 

In the center of the circle was Joff, purple faced and clawing bloody nail tracks down his throat. Margaery was sobbing hysterically next to him and fussing helplessly.

 

“He's choking!” someone in the crowd yelled.

 

Gendry and Theon materialized out of nowhere at Arya's elbow. Robb looked sadly down at her and shoved her into someone's arms. 

 

“Get her away from here,” he said sternly to whoever was already pulling her away.

 

She looked up into Jon's serious and now livid face as he pulled her away from the chaos. She spared one last look back to Joffrey before the fold of bodies closed him off from view. His eyes were open but his hands lay limp at the sides of his slumped body.

 

Joffrey was dead.

 

“Jon! What's happening?” she pleaded as he dragged her out the front door to Robb's BMW.

 

“Fucking stupid.... reckless. What were they thinking?!” he mumbled to himself as he unceremoniously shoved Arya into the passenger seat.

 

He slammed the door and strode around to the drivers side and got in quickly.

 

“Where are we going? What the fuck is going on, Jon?!” she screamed.

 

“Trust me, that is not the place you want to be,” he said as he sped out of the driveway.

 

“Jon! Tell me-” she started before he exploded.

 

“It's complicated Arya! And your dad and Robb have just made everything so much worse! It's not safe there!”

 

_Where is the little bird?_

 

How had The Hound known that this was going to happen? Had her father and Robb killed Joffrey? Then why was she not safe?

 

Arya was so confused.

 

“What about Sansa, then? Is she not safe either?” Arya could feel the tears stinging the back of her eyes but refused to let them spill down her cheeks.

 

“Theon will take care of Sansa,” Jon said confidently. “Or he will die trying.”

 

 


	11. The Monsters Come Out at Night

xi. Sansa

 

When Sansa woke up, her head was foggy and even when she opened her eyes she couldn’t see anything for the dark. She had a horrible headache and when she tried to move she noticed for the first time that her hands were bound together by something unforgiving that bit into her skin.

 

Sansa could feel the panic completely take control of her. Why was she blindfolded and handcuffed? She was having a hard time forming a coherent memory of what had gotten her into this position. She knew that she should remain calm but sobs bubbled up out of her chest without her permission.

 

“Quit whining Sansa.”

 

His voice froze her. It was colder than it had been before. Before it had been seductive and as smooth as velvet. Now it just sounded dangerous.

 

For the first time, Sansa noticed the bumps and sways of the moving vehicle. Where was Osney taking her?

 

Her question would soon be answered. The vehicle came to a sudden stop and Sansa rolled off the seat and into the floorboard. She heard Osney chuckle. How was he so different from the charming man who had taken her to Lannisport?

 

Sansa started to cry again until the door opened and she felt two large hands shift her out of the back of the car. His hands lingered on the inside of her thigh as he threw her over his shoulder. She tried squirming away from his roaming hands but he only moved them higher. His fingers grazed the warm spot where her legs met before they moved up and around to cup and squeeze her butt, causing a small whimper to escape through her nose.

 

As he walked with her thrown over his shoulder, he said, “Oh! I wouldn’t expect you to like it. Does being drugged and tied up get you off?You're kinkier than I would have guessed.... don’t worry I can _totally_ roll with that!”

 

His fingers moved back and instead of a glancing touch, his fingers pressed hard into her and started rubbing insistently. Sansa cried and writhed away but his hands only became encouraged. He laughed and stopped rubbing as she felt his body begin to ascend some stairs.

 

“Don't worry. We can play more later,” he said before she heard the creak of a door and was taken into the heat of the inside of God knew where.

 

 

Sansa had been sitting in this hard wooden chair for easily an hour. The longer she waited, the longer her imagination had time to wander. She had remained bound and blindfolded. Eventually, she heard heavy footsteps approach her and found Osney's face inches from her own when the blindfold was stripped away. He was smirking at her with twinkling lust filled eyes. He straightened up to his full height and leered down at her. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs so high that her thin panties were the only thing saving her from the weight of his stares. Her blouse had been liberated of several buttons and his gaze lingered on her chest. She dropped her head to look and remind herself of which bra she had put on and panicked when she found that she had chosen one that clasped in the front and was nothing but sheer black lace.

 

She snapped her head back up with eyes wide and already leaking hot tears.

 

“Please Osney,” she pleaded but he was already moving towards her.

 

His large fingers deftly undid the clasp at her breastbone. Her breasts spilled out of the bra but her blouse was still maintaining the most miniscule amount of modesty by continuing to conceal her nipples. He made short work of ripping it open to her navel before stepping back and admiring her as she cried and hung her head.

 

He produced a handful of zip ties that she could barely make out through the blur of tears, when it was too late. He quickly strapped her ankles to the legs of the chair that she was sitting in and rose back up in front of her.

 

“Oooh! Good! It makes it more real when you cry,” he said in a heavy voice.

 

He had just begun to unzip his pants when her sobs were cut off by a rough voice, “What the fuck are you doing?”

 

Sansa tensed. If she didn’t think things could get worse, she had been wrong. The Hound walking into the room certainly would not be an improvement.

 

“I was having some fun before Cersei gets here,” Osney said defensively.

 

The Hound looked at Sansa and explored her bare breasts and barely concealed slit with his eyes. He didn’t mind openly leering at her but his eyes shone with disgust instead of the hungry lust that was in Osney's.

 

“Cersei won't want you playing with her toy before she does. Go find her and tell her to hurry the hell up,” barked The Hound as he pulled out a knife and moved towards Sansa.

 

Sansa thought her heart was going to explode out of her chest.

 

“Also, tell her that I have moved the Stark girl to a more comfortable location,” The Hound said as he cut the zip ties at her feet.

 

As he knelt between her legs to free her, his stormy grey eyes wandered back up her legs to the sheer panties that were hiding nothing. Sansa felt a deep blush creep up her neck and onto her face.

 

When Osney spoke again, he was noticeably irritated but still choosing his words carefully. “Listen Clegane, you wouldn’t take her when the opportunity presented itself, so I did. She's mine for now and do you really think I'm ever going to win that bet of ours once Cersei has her in her wicked witch clutches?

 

 _What bet? Who could_ rape _her first?_

 

Sandor rose and started to unbutton his shirt. Sansa whimpered and started to cry again. The Hound had started to say something to Osney but turned and stared down at Sansa. She could actually feel the weight of his livid gaze on the top of her head. He remained silent until she dared to look up. Disgust was written all over his face and on the good side of his face was something else she couldn’t quite identify underlying the disbelief.

 

_Was that hurt?_

 

“I'm sure I'm not as handsome as Mr. Kettleblack over here, you know, the guy that was about to whip his cock out and shove it down your throat, but I thought you might like something to cover yourself up with. I don’t mind looking if you would prefer to stay the way you are though.”

 

Osney laughed. He didn’t even try to deny that that had been his very intention.

 

_There are worse monsters out there than me._

 

Sandor scoffed and shook his head at her when she remained silent. “Listen kid,” he directed back at Osney. “Im not the one trying to get in _Queen_ Cersei's cunt's good graces. I’m sure she will.... reward you generously for kidnapping the Stark girl.”

 

As he spoke, he finished unbuttoning his shirt and shucked easily out of it before tossing it to Sansa. He noticed that she didn’t catch it as it smacked her in the face and fell into her lap. He rolled his eyes and roughly shoved her forward in her chair so he could reach behind her and cut the bond that was cutting deeply into her wrists. She found her face in startlingly close proximity to the bulging manhood in his pants as her cheek was pressed into his firm rippling  lower stomach. Her mouth twitched as the hair leading down the center of his body tickled her. He must have felt her mouth move because he suddenly jerked away and looked down at her in utter shock.

 

_Had she tried to blow the hair from her face?_

 

Whatever he saw in her face seemed to settle him, though and as he turned away from her to put away his knife she saw the wide plane of his back was covered in a mixture of tattoos and more scars.

 

She brought her hands around the front of her to look at the bleeding wounds the unforgiving zip ties had cut into her delicate flesh when The Hound stormed over to her and took one of her hands in his. He lifted her arm to its full length, making her wonder if he wanted her to get up, when he he said to Osney's retreating back, “Really? Was _this_ necessary? She's a girl.”

 

Osney rolled his eyes and walked out of the room and Sansa was left alone with The Hound. She quickly pulled on his long sleeve shirt and began buttoning it up. It smelled musky and warm, like sweat and something distinctly male. When she buttoned the top buttons, she noticed a different mineral-y smell and noticed a large blood stain on the sleeve. She pulled her hand away from her face and noticed him staring at her.

 

“I thought it would still be better than being half-naked,” he shrugged.

 

“It is. Thank you,” Sansa mumbled as she dropped her gaze from his.

 

She noticed a bandage on his wrist. The white dressing was dirty and stained with fresh bright blood. His scared body was disconcerting and as he stood there shirtless, she noticed that the burns traveled down his neck and onto his shoulder. If he was scary with his shirt on the he was terrifying with his shirt off. He was made out of pure muscle and scar tissue. His back was covered in long thin stripes criss-crossing across most of torso and there was a large puckered puncture on his shoulder that was mirrored on the front of his chest, long since healed but still red and shiny. That one looked like it had been incurred after the tattoos. There was a chunk missing out of some symbol that looked like it had been three dogs. Whatever this man had done in his life, he had certainly suffered for it.

 

“W-what does Mrs. Baratheon want with me?” Sansa shuddered.

 

Judging on the converstaion that Osney and The Hound had just had, it wasn’t going to be anything pleasant. Whatever the _hell_ was going on was bad. The Starks and The Baratheons had always been friends and if she was being kidnapped by Cersei, then something had gone seriously wrong.

 

A frown pulled at his features. “You've missed a lot. Just... Just tell her what she wants to hear.”

 

He led her into a cozy study with a blazing fire in the fireplace. Sansa noticed him giving it a wide berth. He gestured towards a soft armchair situated in front a large desk.

 

“Sit,” he said shortly.

 

She lowered herself and tugged self-consciously at the hem of her skirt. The Hound noticed and looked angry as he turned to walk out of the room.

 

“Hound!” she called as before she could stop herself or think of anything more courteous.

 

He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around to look at her. “What is it, girl?” he almost whispered.

 

“Are you leaving me?” She was desperate to not be left alone with Cersei.

 

He turned his head and snarled, “I need a new shirt.”

 

He slammed the door behind him and she was left alone to find out why she was here.


	12. Heartbreak and Honey Buns

xii. Jon

 

When his phone rang, he could tell it was Theon by the ringtone. Every time Theon called him, Theon's favorite song by Rev Theory blared out from his smartphone. The name of the song was Hell Yeah and it summed up Theon perfectly. Normally, it made Jon smile and put him in a good mood, but today he was so anxious that he couldn’t slide the icon to answer the call for the shaking in his hands.

 

Both he and Arya had been nervous wrecks waiting on some news from the rest of the family that were still at Gendry's. When he answered the phone, it was not the voice that he had expected.

 

It was Jeyne Westerling, Robb's fiance.

 

“Jon?” her voiced croaked from the other end of the phone. She had been crying.

 

“Jeyne, why are you on Theon's phone? Where is Theon? Where is Robb?” Jon pushed the panic deep down inside and spoke calmly. He didn’t need her breaking down before relaying the important bits of information.

 

He heard her take a shuddering breath, clearly starting to sob again. “Jon.... Theon is dead. Robb is.... Where are you? Where are Sansa and Arya? I don't know what to do....”

 

“Jeyne, calm down and tell me what's going on....”

 

_Where was Ygritte?_

 

 

When he got off of the phone with Jeyne, Jon realized that, while he had not liked the plan from the beginning, he had never imagined it would turn into _such_ a clusterfuck. He knew he was going to have to tell Arya the truth. He was going to have to tell her everything. She was tough. She would be able to handle it better than Sansa would have.

 

 _Where the hell_ was _Sansa?_

 

Jon hadn’t wanted to leave Arya alone in their hotel room but he would not have taken the call in front of her. He was right outside in Robb's BMW.

 

He sat in the driver's side of Robb's car after he hung up and thought. He tried making plans. Plans to keep Arya safe. Plans to find Sansa. Plans of revenge.

 

From bitter resentment or from grief, he didn’t know, but he did know that he was going to cry.

 

In a tear streaked haze, Jon thought of his life with the Starks. His mother, Ned's sister Lyana and his father, Rheagar Targaryen had been murdered when he was a baby. Ned had taken him into the family without a thought. Catelyn had accepted him, but grudgingly. She only saw him as the product of Rheagar's abduction of Lyana. Their only child, Robb, had been only a few months younger than him and they had grown up as brothers. When Jon was five, Theon had been brought into the family. They were only days apart in age. Jon, Robb and Theon had grown into smart and powerful men together as brothers and as best friends. They were going to continue in Ned's place when he was gone and build the Stark name into the most powerful family in the country with Robb at the head.

 

_Not anymore._

 

Jon made his way back into the cheap motel room he and Arya had gotten under one of his alias's and found her pacing impatiently around the room.

 

“Jon, if you don’t start telling me just what the _fuck_ is going on, I'm going to have a stroke.”

 

“Arya... I’m going to tell you. I’m going to tell you everything,” he said quietly. He sighed heavily.

 

“The party,” he started. “That party was only to get Joffrey Baratheon into a controversial social situation. You know about his love for cocaine...”

 

She nodded her head.

 

“Well, Robb and Margaery poisoned him by making it look like he just got a bad batch and overdosed.”

 

“Why?” she whispered. Her eyes were wide and sad.

 

Jon took a deep breath and continued. “Your dad thinks that The Stag's reckless lifestyle has become a liability. If something were to happen to Robert, Joffrey would then be the head of the Baratheon family because on paper, Joffrey is Robert's son.”

 

“You don’t think he is?” she gasped.

 

“We know he isn’t. He was born from an incestuous affair between Cersei and Jaime Lannister. It's fucking nasty and probably the reason Joff is the way he is. Joffrey is a cruel and stupid mamma's boy who would only wreak havoc holding a big stick. If the Baratheons, under Joff's command, and the Lannisters joined forces... well, it would be really bad for our family. The Lannisters have always had a warped view on their place in the world.”

 

“So that's why Joffrey was choking when you dragged me away? Because Robb poisoned him?”

 

“He and Margaery conspired to slip it into some cocaine and drug his drinks, yes.”

 

“So why was it not safe for me to be there?”

 

Jon took another deep breath and ground his teeth in frustration. “Because your _boyfriend_ invited Osney Kettleblack and because he doesn't work for the Baratheons. He works for Cersei Lannister. Originally, when Gendry told us that he had invited Osney and Bronn, Robb was beyond pissed but saw that it wouldn’t make much of a difference. It would still look like a horrible accident brought on by excessive partying. The Lannisters are going to take this as a murder whether it was or not. Osney looks fun and easy going, and he is, but he is dangerous because you don’t expect him to be.”

 

_Cersei had never trusted them._

 

“Jon, what happened at Gendry's house after we left?”

 

Jon took a deep and shuddering breath that he was sure Arya had noticed. “Arya...” he began.

 

“Jon! I have to know! The backstory hardly matters when I'm still on fucking pins and needles wondering if everyone I care about is ok.”

 

She had started to cry.

 

Jon looked into her wide brown eyes and couldn’t find the words.

 

“Someone got hurt? Jon! I have to know! Stop treating me like I'm Sansa!”

 

“Theon,” he managed to choke out. “He's dead.” He couldn’t possibly elaborate on grizzly end that Theon had met. One of the Lannister men had filled him 9mm bullets as he held them away from Sansa. He had died trying. Jon felt bitter hot tears roll down his cheeks.

 

Pain contorted her entire face but she steeled herself for the rest of the bad news. “Who else?”

 

“Robb... he's in the hospital. Jeyne says the doctors aren’t very hopeful. He was shot twice. One of the bullets caught a lung.”

 

“And Sansa?” she choked back her tears better than Jon.

 

This was probably the part that scared him the most. After Theon had died, she was on her own. Sansa was smart but not in the right way. Had she seen Theon get shot over and over to protect her? Did she know the lengths he had gone to to keep her safe?

 

“Im not sure where Sansa is.” His admission made it sink in and feel all the more real.

 

Arya's breath hitched, “And Gendry?”

 

Jon was happy to deliver some amount of good news to her. “He's fine. He's on his way to the hospital to see Robb and  take care of Jeyne.”

 

“Does he know that I’m safe?”

 

“I made sure to tell Jeyne to inform him of your safety.”

 

“Have you talked to dad?”

 

Jon knitted his brows together and shook his head. “I’ve been trying to reach him, I even tried your mother but I cant get a hold of them.” He looked up and saw the look on Arya's face and added quickly, “I'll try again in a little bit.”

 

Arya appeared placated for the moment but she was still grieving for Theon and for the possibility that Robb might not make it. They both were.

 

“I need a some sleep,” Jon said heavily. “Wake me up in a few hours and don’t. go. _anywhere_.”

 

 

When Jon woke up, dawn was breaking through nicotine stained curtains and when he looked at the clock on the table beside the bed, it read 5:00 exactly. He sat up and ran his hand over his face in a feeble attempt to wipe away the memory of the horrible dream he had been having.

 

_I should have been there._

 

He noticed the smell of smoke and turned to look over his shoulders. Arya was sitting against the headboard on the other side of the large bed smoking a cigarette and watching Jerry Springer on the crappy TV that only tuned into the local channels.

 

“Since when do you smoke? And where did you get the cigarettes?” They hadn’t had time to grab any of their stuff.

 

Arya turned away from the TV at Jon' tone snuffed the cigarette out in the plastic ashtray lying beside her. “There were some vending machines a few doors down. I got us breakfast,” she said holding up a bag of Doritos and a gigantic honey bun.

 

“Arya, I specifically said not to go anywhere! Theon is dead. Robb is almost dead and Sansa is nowhere to be fucking seen! What was so hard about that? Don’t go anywhere. Seems simple enough to me. Now is not the time for your teenage rebellious bullshit!” The words exploded from his mouth with all of his frustration and fear and grief. He regretted blowing up on her as soon as he ended his tirade. 

 

Arya looked shocked at first but she quickly narrowed her eyes and set her mouth into a thin hard line. He wasn’t surprised that he had pissed her off. “It was only a few doors down, Jon! I was hungry and hungover and I wanted a cigarette! I managed to make it back in one piece, didn’t I? I didn’t get shot, did I?”

 

He could have choked her twisting the knife in the still fresh wound.

 

“Look, Arya. I’m sorry I blew up on you. I’m scared, stressed and heartbroken.  But I still don’t want you leaving my side. Got it?”

 

Her features softened and she took a bite out of her honey bun. “Yeah, sure,” she said in a voice garbled by food as she looked back to the TV.

 

Jon reached across the bed and snatched up the bag of chips and the can of Pepsi she had gotten him. Arya and Jon had always been close and she had gotten Cooler Ranch Doritos and Wild Cherry Pepsi because she knew they were his favorites.

 

“See? You’re welcome,” she chided.

 

“Thank you,” he said as he picked up his phone. He frowned when he saw that there no missed calls and no unread texts. “Did no one call while I was out?”

 

“Mm um,” she mumbled, shaking her head. She looked as worried as he felt.

 

Just as he was shoving a chip in his mouth, his phone vibrated in his hand. He looked down hopefully but it was only signaling that it needed charging. They had the same model phone so hopefully, Robb would have a charger in his car.

 

“Do you have your phone on you?” he asked Arya.

 

She dug in her pockets and brought her phone out to hand to him. “Who are you calling?” she asked. Her voice sounded slightly nervous.

 

“Jory,” he said.

 

Jory Cassel was one of Ned's most trusted employees and had been fortunate enough to be absent from the party. Ned had needed him to collect the money from the bookies that ran the bets on sporting events. A particularly large bet had been placed and had won. They had bet for Loras Tyrell to fumble for a loss. He had fumbled on his own 30 yard line. He had thrown that game. Jon didn’t know how much the bet had been placed for but he was sure that it was enough to cover a portion of Loras's debt to The Stag. Ned had refused to pay out so he sent Jory to collect the money from the bookies and make sure that whoever had placed that bet, wouldn’t be collecting.

 

Jory had been disappointed to miss the party. He was an easygoing and genuinely nice guy. It was a good thing he hadn’t gone to Gendry's New Years Massacre. Jon had always liked Jory. Theon and Robb were bad as it was.

 

Jory's phone went straight to voicemail.

 

_Where the fuck was everyone?_


	13. Too Many Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, you guys might have noticed that I had to change up my story summary a little. Haha. I had kind of deviated from my original vision but I like where this is going even more so... oh well.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Xiii. Cersei

 

The crippling grief was matched only by the overwhelming anger. The incompetence was mind boggling. Osney, The Hound, Bronn and Osmund had all been there and they had all neglected to keep her oldest son safe and now he was dead. Only Osney and The Hound had come back. Osmund was dead and Bronn was in the hospital. He had lost a lot of blood but he would live. The Hound had suffered two pretty serious injuries but refused being hospitalized. Osney had come back unscathed. She had only spoken to The Hound, who was answering to her, however grudgingly, since Robert had died.

 

She had finally convinced Jaime to just kill Robert and Ned himself after she had given into his advances. She had sucked his cock until he came in her mouth. She had still been wiping the saliva and cum from her lips when she had made herself cry and had begged Jaime to kill them himself. No one else was going to be reliable enough.

 

_Tears weren't a woman's only weapon._

 

As her son had been choking and the ensuing fire-fight at the Waters boy's house, Jaime had been murdering Robert and Ned. He had run into a small hiccup when he found Ned in the company of two of his employees, Rodrik Cassel and his nephew Jory. Jaime had been forced to kill them too. Catelyn was missing but Cersei had Petyr Baelish looking for her. Catelyn and Petyr had grown up together and she trusted him but Baelish could be easily influenced by the empty promises that Cersei was feeding him. He was power hungry and constantly thirsted for more authority. He would find her eventually and with her family and their employees dying like flies, she posed very little threat.

 

The Hound had told her that the Greyjoy boy had been killed and that the oldest son, Robb had been hit but Clegane didn’t know whether he was alive or not. She needed to talk to Jaime. He was the captain of the police department. He would be a better source of information. Clegane was little more than a soldier. He had not been hired by Robert for his intelligence. While Osney had not managed to even giver her the courtesy of sustaining an injury to protect her son, he had managed to get one thing right. He had successfully kidnapped the Stark girl. The pretty one, not the petulant little brat that had given Joffrey a black eye once when they had been kids.

 

_What was her name?_

 

She had just gotten her second bottle of wine out of the refrigerator, when The Hound walked through the the living room and crossed over to the large open kitchen.

 

“The Stark girl has been moved to your study. Where did Osney go?”

 

“Osney isn’t here.” She had started to feel the wine halfway through the first bottle but the more she drank, the less she felt. “Since when do you need Osney to do your work for you, Clegane?”

 

“What work are you referring to?”

 

“Osney kidnapped the Stark girl, the redheaded one.”

 

“I don’t kidnap people. I kill people.”

 

“Who did you kill tonight, Clegane? Did you kill the people responsible for Joff's murder?”

 

“I told you that Theon Greyjoy is dead.”

 

“And is that thanks to you?”

 

He hesitated. “Yes. I took care of Greyjoy and his bitch sister while Osney was free to go after Sansa Stark.”

 

_Sansa. That was her name._

 

Cersei nodded. “After I finish my wine, show me into see her. I'll need you to stay while I try to get some information out of her. Not enough Stark blood has been spilled to atone for my losses. After that,” she thought a moment before a dark thought came into her head. “Give her to Osney for the good work he's done. I’m told he's sweet for her and _he_ deserves it. Now go away and let me enjoy my wine.”

 

She had told him not to go. She had tried to keep him from going to that stupid party but Joffrey had never listened to her. His partying had become excessive and she suspected so had his drug use. The Stark boys had probably encouraged him to do too much cocaine or heroin or whatever it was that they had been doing. That morose little Targaryen boy seemed like the heroin addict type. Maybe they had even forced him to do it or mixed it with his drinks.

 

Cersei wondered if Robb was alive or dead. She hoped he was dead. A son for a son. Greyjoys were hardly a trade for her Joffrey.

 

Cersei drained her wine glass and poured another before she picked up the phone and dialed the phone number she knew by heart.

 

“Hello?” Jaime's voice purred into her ear.

 

“Jaime, whats going on? Did you find out everything yet? Is Robb dead?”

 

“No, Robb isn't dead. He's is the ICU at the hospital. He was shot and one of his lungs was punctured. It doesn’t look good.”

 

“What about the Targaryen boy?”

 

“He's MIA. So is the youngest daughter. Do you still have Sansa?”

 

Cersei scoffed. She wasn't going to deign to use the little traitor bitches name. “Yes, Osney and Clegane will assist me in her interrogation. Blood makes me queasy.” Cersei could hear her words beginning to slur.

 

“Are you drunk Cersei? Don’t do anything rash until you have sobered up. Sansa doesn’t have anything to do with her dad's business.”

 

“Our son is dead, Jaime! I want blood for blood!” she screamed into the phone.

 

She was met by silence on the other end of the phone. He was not happy about being reminded that Joffrey was his.

 

_Good._

 

“The Stark girl will serve my purpose well enough. When I’m done with her, I'll give her to Osney as a reward. He can do whatever he wants with her.”

 

“Cersei,” Jaime started carefully.

 

“Look, I have to go,” she said finishing off the bottle of wine. “Just keep your ears open and let me know anything you hear.”

 

“Cersei!”

 

“Bye, Jaime.”

 

She hung up the phone before he could say anything else. She was not going to listen to him try to talk her out of what she wanted to do. He couldn't stop her from relishing in her small amount of revenge.

 

“Where have you two been?” she spat as The Hound and Osney walked through the living room and into the kitchen. “Take me to the Stark girl,” she said waving away Osney's attempts to explain. The Hound had just shrugged. God, he was such an oaf.

 

As they walked through the house, Cersei felt her steps begin to get clumsy and she could tell that she was weaving. She hardly cared how intoxicated she was. She was manically excited to take out some of her frustration and overwhelming grief on this girl.

 

When they got to the study door, Cersei stumbled into The Hounds back before he had a chance to open the door. He turned on her with a look of disgust. From him, the raging alcoholic. She was going to have to get rid of him soon. Robert might have been able to put up with his insolence but Cersei wasn't going to.

 

Cersei composed herself and prepared mentally for what she was going to say to the little murderous bitch.

 

When Clegane opened the door, she walked through first followed by Osney and then The Hound. She took an extra few moments to scan the room. Her vision had blurred and she could feel the room spinning. If things would just slow down, Cersei could focus on something. Finally, her eyes landed on the back of her head. She was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, her bright auburn hair kissed by fire. Cersei found herself hating the girl even more than before. She was young and beautiful.

 

_Not for long._

 

Cersei made her way around to stand in front of the Stark bitch but was brought up short when the girl turned her plain face to glare Cersei directly in the eyes.

 

_That wasn’t Sansa Stark._

 

“Who the hell are you?” Cersei spat into the girls face.

 

Osney's face fell and hurried over to look at the girl in the chair. “Wha-This isn’t Sansa!”

 

“I'm aware that it's not Sansa, you idiot! How is it that you brought me the wrong girl when you have been on a fucking date with the little slut?! You,” she directed at The Hound as she strode over to him in long angry strides. She was still stumbling from all the wine and nearly knocked over a lamp on the end table. “Why didn’t you tell him he had the wrong girl?”

 

“I don’t know what the Stark girl looks like. I was only told that she had red hair and would be hanging around the Stark and Targaryen boys,” he said in a slow bored voice. He sounded like he was trying to explain quantum physics to a five year old.

 

“Don't you pander to me, Hound!” she hissed.

 

“This wasn’t the girl!” Osney was still sputtering behind her. “Who the fuck are you?” he shot down at her.

 

The girls lip was split and bleeding. She licked at the blood and glowered up at Osney. “My name's Ygritte. We've met before when you took Sansa to the Lannisport. I was your waitress until the little cunt got all high and mighty on me.” A wicked smile crossed her face. “I spit in your food.”

 

Osney hit her so hard, Cersei was sure he would break something in her face. Good. Cersei didn’t care. She stood still and tried to keep the room from spinning too fast when she felt like she was going to be sick. Her stomach was turning over itself and she found that any minute she was going to vomit. Her fury at Osney's incompetence was matched only by disappointment. How could he possibly be so stupid?

 

And she had called The Hound an oaf. He was right. He had never seen her. He hadn’t gone a goddamn date with the girl.

 

“Cersei,” Osney came and clutched at her arm. “This wasn’t the girl!”

 

She couldn’t listen to his sniveling anymore. She had to get out of there.

 

“Hound, take care of these two... mistakes. I hate mistakes.”

 

Clegane was pulling his gun from his side holster when she made her way to the door.

 

“Cersei! Please, listen!” Osney was pleading.

 

She heard the sounds of a struggle and what could have been the breaking of bone as she closed the door on Osney's screaming. She had taken only a few hurried weaving steps down the hallway when she heard the first gunshot.

 

The second followed soon after.


	14. Something Beautiful and Tragic in the Fallout

Xiiii. Sandor

 

“I need a room,” he barked at the frail old man behind the counter. “With two beds,” he added. He wasn’t about to share a bed with either girl. They could suffer each other.

 

The man typed a few things into his computer. His face dropped in false disappointment. “I'm sorry. We only have singles available. You could always just get two joining rooms.”

 

“No,” Sandor snapped. “I'll take the single.”

 

“That will be $58 a night. Just one night?”

 

Sandor would sleep on the floor. For $58 dollars a night, he wasn’t sure he wanted a bed anyway. The floor was probably cleaner anyway.

 

He slapped the money down on the counter and snatched the key. He stalked back out to his car and tried to crank the engine. It put up a fight but eventually turned over. Now was not the time for a faulty starter. He pulled away from the office and made his way to their room.

 

Sansa's sobs were muffled but audible from the back seat. He had blindfolded her again but only loosely bound her. Her wrists were raw enough.

 

“Would you _please_ shut that shit up? You're alive, aren’t you?” These stupid girls. The incessant banging from the trunk was bad enough. He was going to have to shoot the not pretty one.

 

He pulled into a space in front of their room number and got out to unlock the door and check the room. It smelled like stale smoke and bleach.

 

Sandor went out to get Sansa first. Just as he was about to help her out of the car, the banging in the trunk started again. He lifted himself out of the backseat and pounded so hard on the hood that he was surprised he didn’t dent it. The banging stopped. At least for now. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in to help Sansa out. He grabbed her under the knees and under her arms to pull her out and carry her into the room, when she started crying hysterically.

 

“Hey! What's your fucking problem?” he hissed into her ear.

 

She squirmed and tried kicking but he had her legs and squeezed them tightly together. “Stop fucking kicking me, you stupid bitch! Don’t make me regret helping you!”

 

Her thrashing paused so he took the opportunity to seize her and bring her in tight to his own body in case she started writhing around again. She tensed against him but remained still.

 

“Please,” she whimpered.

 

“Save it,” he said as he took her into the room.

 

She started to sob again.

 

_Was she ever going to stop the crying?_

 

He dropped her unceremoniously on the bed and ripped off her blindfold. He leaned down over her and sneered into her face as she took in her surroundings. She noticed what she was lying on and looked up at him wide eyed with fear. After all of his efforts to help her, she still thought he was a monster who was about to rape and murder her.

 

“Listen girl, you would be getting tortured and then raped violently by Osney if it weren't for me so stop the goddamn crying.”

 

“You aren’t going to rape me?”she whispered breathlessly.

 

He noticed how close he had gotten to her. His body was pressing hers into the bed and he could feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed rapidly in fear. His face had gotten so close to hers he could make out how dilated her pupils were. So little of the bright blue was being swallowed into the black. He could rape her. She was right here underneath him and she couldn’t stop him if that was what he was going to do.

 

_I'd fuck her._

 

He leaned his face down into her hair and ran his nose along her ear. The sweet scent of pears hit him and stirred something deep inside of him causing him to involuntarily press his growing cock into her thigh.

 

“Do you want me to rape you, girl?” he growled into her hair.

 

She whimpered but didn’t cry again. “Please, no.”

 

He pushed himself off of her and stood, leaving her staring up at him in obvious confusion. He remembered how her vulnerable body had looked when Osney had tied her to the chair and ripped open her blouse. He could admire how perfect it was but, ultimately, it did nothing for him. Looking down on a broken little girl, he had felt only disgusted.

 

“That's my shirt you've got on. Do we remember when I gave it to you?”

 

She nodded her head and looked away from him.

 

“I'm not going to rape you so you can quit your whining.” He bent over and grabbed her by her arm and flipped her onto her stomach. He pulled his knife out of his pocket and cut the tie at her wrists. “Now stay here while I try to deal with the other girl.”

 

“The girl in the trunk?”

 

“Yeah, I save her too and the little bitch bites me. That's why she's in the trunk.”

 

He went outside to his car and punched the hood of the trunk again and unlocked it. The girl looked up at him.

 

_If looks could kill...._

 

He had gagged her when she had tried screaming and her hands and feet were still tied from when he had kidnapped her at the Waters boy's house. Despite his warnings to the youngest sister, Osney had still managed to get Sansa and this feisty little wildling had been a perfect switch. He hadn’t meant to save her too but it had been easy enough with Cersei stumbling all over the place and almost passing out in the hallway. He hadn't killed anyone last night, despite what he had told Cersei about the Greyjoys, and he didn’t want to start with a girl if he didn’t have to. Osney didn't count. He had enjoyed that.

 

_Now what the fuck am I supposed to do with her?_

 

“Do you want out of this trunk or not?”

 

She glared daggers at him but didn’t make any indication one way or another.

 

“Ok. Fine with me,” he said as he started to close the trunk again. He stopped when she mumbled desperately into the gag and opened it back all the way. “So you do want out?”

 

She was going to kill him in his sleep for all the toying he was doing with her.

 

_I'll lock her in the bathroom. She can sleep in the bathtub for  
all I care._

 

She nodded her head.

 

He picked her up out of the trunk and stood her on her feet as he shut it, then he stooped down, threw her over his shoulder and took her into the room. He put her on the bed beside Sansa and took the gag out of her mouth.

 

“If you bite me again,” Sandor said lifting his hand and holding it up into her face. “I really will shoot you.” The spot where she had bitten him was red and already bruising. She had even broken the skin and there was a smear of blood running back to his wrist. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had to get a series of rabies shots in the fucking stomach.

 

“Well, I’m still kidnapped so I’m not promising anything,” she sneered.

 

“It's still better than dead,” he hissed in her face.

 

“As long as she's around, I guess don’t have to worry about getting raped by the ugliest mutt I've ever seen. That would be worse than being dead,” she said jerking her head towards Sansa.

 

“What are _you_ doing here, Ygritte?” Sansa exclaimed.

 

“This savage kidnapped me at the party and then switched me for you. He killed Osney but he didn’t kill me, he just shut me up in a trunk.”

 

“You killed Osney?” Sansa gasped as she jerked her head around to look at him.

 

“Yeah, I did. I thought you might be happy about that.”

 

“He also killed Theon, are you happy about that as well?” Ygritte spat looking up at Sandor again.

 

“No I didn’t.”

 

“Theon?” Sansa whispered. “You killed Theon? He's dead?”

 

“Yeah, he's dead but you,” He almost yelled at Ygritte. “Keep the dead off my doorstep. That was Osmund or Bronn.”

 

“Bronn wouldn't kill Theon,” Sansa said through tears.

 

“Don't be so sure,” Sandor said.

 

“I saw Robb get hit. Is he dead too?” Ygritte asked, her features softening ever so slightly.

 

“Robb too?!” Sansa was sobbing hysterically now.

 

“I don’t know,” he barked as he gagged Ygritte again. This bitch talked way too much. Sansa had just stopped crying and now she was telling the poor girl about how her family was dead. He picked her up and took her into the bathroom to sit her on the floor. “Stay in here and keep that mouth shut!” he snarled at her before he slammed the door. Sansa was still crying but she had curled herself up into a ball on the bed and lay shuddering as she sobbed quietly.

 

He sat down at the foot of the bed. “It wasn't me who shot Theon,” Sandor rasped almost gently. “Or Robb.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. They're dead. Why would I care who did it?” she said, sitting up.

 

“I said I don’t know if Robb is dead or not.”

 

“But Theon, you know he is?”

 

“Yeah,” Sandor mumbled. He found himself almost wanting to console her but he didn’t have the slightest idea of how he was supposed to do that. A hug or some shit? The idea of a hug from him would probably repulse her as much as it repulsed him. He wasn’t the hugging type.

 

He got up and stepped outside to leave her to her tears. They made him as uncomfortable as a hug would. He had better find something to do with her before she got under his skin anymore than she already had. He had no better ideas about her than he did about Ygritte.

 

_He could always just leave her in the bathroom._

 

He couldn’t just leave Sansa in some shit-hole motel off of the interstate. Maybe if he found her mother then he could give her back to her. Ned Stark was dead and Robb probably was too. He needed to reunite her with what was left of her family before Cersei found her. He didn't know what her endgame was but it surely had something to do with Jaime and her father, Tywin.

 

His mind was reeling from trying to figure out what to do, when he saw a small shadow approaching him under the lights by the rooms. The light to their room was out and the curtains inside were drawn. He was hidden in the darkness. The shadow came closer and closer until they stopped at the vending machines about twenty feet from his rooms' door. As she stepped into the light, he saw her face clearly and he recognized the youngest Stark girl as she pulled a bag of chips out of the machine.


	15. Sneaking Suspicions

Xv. Tyrion

 

When Tyrion and Jaime made it to Cersei's house, the driveway was empty except for Osney's Jeep and Cersei's Lexxus. Tyrion could guess why Osney was still here but didn’t dare voice his suspicions to Jaime.

 

“When did you say Cersei called you?” Tyrion asked Jaime as they waited at the door. Jaime had rung the bell twice.

 

“She woke me up at about four thirty this morning,” Jaime said trying the bell again. It was only about eight thirty now.

 

“And you said she sounded drunk?” Tyrion said eying Jaime up through his eyelashes.

 

“Yeah, you think she's just passed out?” Jaime said looking down at him.

 

_Not exactly._

 

He could easily imagine Cersei and Osney scrambling to put themselves together and hide any incriminating evidence of their late night and drunken tryst. Jaime and Tyrion had always been close. Jaime was the only family member he had that seemed to like him at all. Cersei hated him and their father, Tywin, was almost disdainful of his very existence. Even still, Jaime had never actually admitted to banging his twin sister.

 

“And she has the Stark girl?” Tyrion continued.

 

“Yeah,” said Jaime, breaking off his idle stares. Tyrion wondered if Jaime had noticed the Jeep and wondering the same thing.

 

“We can't let her hurt Sansa. Ned and Robert are good friends but if Cersei starts....”

 

“Ned and Robert are dead,” Jaime interrupted in a quiet voice. He couldn’t meet Tyrion's intense gaze.

 

“Did I hear you correctly? Did you say dead?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, wouldn't that be convenient if it weren't for the little SNAFU with Joffrey last night?”

 

Jaime looked to Tyrion and narrowed his eyes slightly with a quirk of his head.

 

“Oh, I'm sorry. What was it? An unfortunate accident?”

 

Whatever had happened with Robert and Ned, Jaime seemed to know but he certainly wasn't telling Tyrion about it. He didn't have to tell him one thing, his silence was admission enough, it was Cersei's doing.

 

“That really is too bad. The Stag always kept the prettiest whores,” Tyrion said sadly. “Apart from myself, there are going to be a lot of disappointed employees. The Hound? How else will he get laid? Freaks like us can't be expected to rely on our looks. Bronn and Osney always enjoyed their company too.”

 

“Well, Bronn won't be needing a whore anytime soon. He's in the hospital. And Osney,” Jaime hesitated and looked at Tyrion almost sheepishly. “Well, he's with Cersei. He has the Stark girl. Maybe he will give Clegane a turn, they are pretty chummy.”

 

“You can't possibly mean that Cersei is going to allow Osney and The Hound to rape Sansa Stark?!”

 

“She said she would make the girl a reward for Osney.”

 

“A _reward?!_ ” Tyrion gaped at Jaime. “Cersei doesn't like to give away her play things.”

 

Jaime scoffed and fished out his keys for the spare to Cersei and Robert's house. He had missed or ignored that the play thing Tyrion had been referring to had been Osney and not Sansa.

 

When they walked across the threshold, they were met by only silence. Most of the lights in the living room and kitchen were on and the TV was showing a football game that was from yesterday.

 

“Hello?” called Jaime. “Cersei?”

 

Jaime walked over to walk down the hallway when he stopped and went over to the couch. Tyrion made his way to stand next to Jaime and saw Cersei sprawled out on the couch fast asleep, a delicate snore emanating from her open mouth. Tyrion was tempted to take a picture for future use. Jaime knelt beside her and shook her shoulder.

 

“Cersei... wake up.” She stirred but didn’t wake up.

 

Jaime looked over to Tyrion.

 

“What, like I’m the resident alcoholic and therefore the authority on drunk people?” Tyrion said defensively.

 

“I didn’t want to say it that way...”

 

“We could always dip her hand in warm water and make her piss herself.”

 

Jaime just looked at Tyrion with a sardonic grin.

 

“Ok, fine,” Tyrion said dismissively as he made his way to the kitchen to raid the fridge and leave Jaime to wake Cersei. He found champagne and orange juice and some bagels and cream cheese. “When does her chef get here?” he called to Jaime as he popped the cork on the champagne bottle and poured it in with his orange juice.

 

“The chef doesn’t come until dinner time. Are you drinking already?” Jaime called back. He was shaking Cersei gently again.

 

“Well, what good is that? People have to eat breakfast too. It's the most important meal of the day.” Tyrion said as he made his way back over to the couch. “And I opened the champagne for her. She will need a drink if she's hungover. Whatever happened to diverting to my expert opinion?”

 

Cersei mumbled, opened her eyes slowly and winced against the sunlight and the invisible vice that Tyrion knew her head must feel like it was in.

 

“What are you two doing here?” she said as she slowly got up and made her way to the kitchen.

 

“Where is Sansa?” Tyrion asked her.

 

“Did you have something to do with that? Do you know where the Stark girl is because if you do and you aren’t telling me....”

 

“Wait, you don’t have Sansa?” Jaime interrupted. “You said on the phone that you had her.”

 

Cersei glowered another minute at Tyrion before she poured herself a mimosa of her own and downed half of it in one gulp. “Osney apparently brought me the wrong girl. I knew he was dense but...” she shook her head and drank another sip from her flute. Something seemed to dawn on her and and she went off to hurry down the hall.

 

“Cersei?” Jaime called as he followed her.

 

“She probably has to puke,” Tyrion said to himself as he sipped on his own drink. He followed them down the hall at a leisurely pace. “Hey Jaime,” he called out. “Lets go to the Lannisport and get some brunch. Their eggs Benedict are scrumptious. Jaime?” He followed the curve of the hall and looked into the large study at the end. Jaime and Cersei were standing stone still and looking into the room at something.

 

As Tyrion made his way to their side, a sharp smell hit his nostrils and turned his stomach. He suddenly forgot about brunch.

 

Lying on the floor in front of Jaime and Cersei was Osney Kettleblack, pale and lifeless. From the angle that he was laying, Tyrion could see a small entry wound under his jaw and a large gaping exit wound on the top of his head. Congealed blood and brains sprayed the ceiling above his body and pooled on the Persian carpet underneath him. Tyrion could make out fragments of bone in the gore.

 

“Cersei, what is this?” Jaime asked her slowly.

 

“Where is the other girl?” she mumbled to herself.

 

“What other girl?” Tyrion asked.

 

“The _wrong_ one that this idiot brought me! The other redhead!” she spat vehemently down at him.

 

“What happened Cersei?” Jaime said urgently.

 

“The Hound,” she said suddenly. “Clegane did this! He must have killed Osney and then taken the girl and run off after I was asleep.”

 

Tyrion could see her lies the second they spilled from her mouth. She had done this because of Osney's mistake. Clegane might have pulled the trigger but she had been behind it, he was sure.

 

_Where was he now? And where was Sansa Stark?_

 

Tyrion had a sudden idea. It seemed plausible but unlikely. That would require Sandor Clegane to feel something akin to _empathy_ for another human being. Tyrion tried to shake the idea from his head but for the rest of the day, he couldn’t ignore a nagging suspicion in the back of his mind.

 

Why would The Hound want to help Sansa anyway?


	16. Almost Taming the Beast Within

Xvi. Sansa

 

When Sansa woke the next morning, she was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. The clothes that she had slept in were sticking to her and she realized, when she looked down, that is was The Hound's shirt that she was still wearing. The cotton and silk blend had long since lost it's crisp clean smell but something much more comforting still filled her when she snuggled into it and she remembered strong but gentle arms cradling her as she cried.

 

_Was that real? That couldn't have been him._

 

The light was shining through a crack in the curtains, giving the stuffy room a vague amount of light. She pulled back the covers and rolled herself to the edge of the bed and placed one foot gingerly on the floor and began to tip toe towards the bathroom. Despite the sliver of sunlight coming through the window, the room was still so dim that she found herself reaching out to feel along the wall for a switch.

 

_I don't remember covering myself up._

 

She could barely make out a wall when her foot caught something hard and sent her sprawling onto it. She landed hard and was met with a grunt and an obscenity.

 

“What the fuck?” he rumbled, still dazed by sleep. “Sansa?” She could feel his warm breath on her neck.

 

Her breathing almost stopped when she realized she had landed completely on top of him and was now inches from his face and actually straddling his waist. She quickly climbed off of him and tried her best to form a intelligent response.

 

“I-I'm sorry. I w-was just trying... I had to...I'm so sorry, Hound,” she was stuttering incoherently.

 

She felt him suddenly lift up off of the ground and clasp his fingers tightly around her arm. She whimpered quietly and flinched away from where his eyes were trying to bore holes into her.

 

“I said I- I was sorry...” she started to plead. “You're hurting me.”

 

“Don't. call. me. Hound.” he snarled as he let go of her arm and shoved her away from him. He stood up quickly, snatched his jacket off of the bed and stalked out of the room and slamming the door behind him. The jacket had been on the pillow she had just been lying on.

 

_Was it his jacket I was smelling?_

 

Sansa stood up and walked to the bathroom and opened the door. She switched on the light and gave a small yelp when she saw Ygritte in the bathtub blinking up at her. She had a pillow under her head and a blanket thrown over her. She was still gagged and started to mumble when she saw Sansa. Sansa looked to the door and when she saw that The Hou-

 

_No. Not Hound. Clegane? Sandor?_

 

Sandor was still outside, She moved over to Ygritte quickly to remove the gag from her mouth so she could speak.

 

Ygritte rotated her jaw and looked at Sansa almost shyly. “Thank you. Can I _please_ have some water?” she asked hoarsely.

 

Sansa looked back towards the door and rushed to get Ygritte a cup of water. She put the cup up to the girls chapped lips as Ygritte drank greedily and gasped. “Look, I have to pee so bad I think I’m going to burst.”

 

Sansa had to agree. She had come into the bathroom for that very same reason and she was to the point of having to squirm to keep herself from wetting herself. “Hang on,” she said to Ygritte as she made her way quickly to the door of the motel room.

 

“Sansa! Don’t!”

 

“Hang on! He can't keep us like this,” she said as she yanked the door to their room open and ran right into Sandor's chest. He gave an “oomf” of surprise but forced her back inside with the sheer size of his wide muscular body. Sansa back up instinctively and sought for the words that had just been on her lips.

 

“Going somewhere, girl?” he said with a low voice that she swore resonated through the floor and up into her body. He still wore a hateful sneer.

 

“I was looking for you,” she said, trying to jut out her jaw and find some amount of confidence from deep inside of herself. “We need the bathroom.”

 

Sandor peered around her shoulder into the bathroom to Ygritte tied up in the bathtub.

 

“And you expect me to untie her?”

 

“You better have some clean clothes for when I piss on myself!” Ygritte shouted from the bathroom.

 

Sandor stalked over to the door and shut it harder than was necessary, closing off Ygritte's cries of protest.

 

“Who is this girl? Is this Robb's girlfriend or something?” he asked her with an exasperated shake of his head as he went out to his car. Sansa followed him to the door.

 

“Where are you going? We need the bathroom!” she shouted out to him. He stopped and turned to look at her.

 

“All of my clean clothes are in the trunk,” he said. “Hold it for one more minute.” He went to open the trunk and pulled out a small duffel bag.

 

He pushed past her rudely and dropped his bag on the bed to root around in it for something. He pulled a t-shirt out of the bag and threw it to Sansa. “Its going to be too big on you, but it's better than what you have. At least that's clean,” he said appraising the white dress shirt he had given her the night before. “We can throw that one away.”

 

“Is this your blood?” Sansa asked lifting up her arm to inspect the stained sleeve.

 

“Yeah,” he said looking at his own bandaged arm.

 

He went into the bathroom to get Ygritte out of the bathtub so the girls could use the toilet and shower. When Sansa was done, she came out in Sandor's t-shirt and her skirt from last night trying in vain to comb through the tangles in her wet hair. That cheap shampoo had wreaked havoc on her normally smooth hair.

 

“And you can keep stupid ideas like that to yourself,” he growled at Ygritte as Sansa was coming through the door to the bathroom. He cut Ygritte loose with a look of warning as he waved his knife at her. She looked at Sansa with a smirk and then back up to Sandor. As she walked to the bathroom, she shucked her shoulders out of her dress and let it fall to her ankles, leaving her in nothing but a pair of grey boyshorts. She looked over her shoulder at Sandor and then looked at Sansa. She laughed and shook her head as she walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

 

Sansa frowned in confusion and looked over at Sandor. He was looking at her long bare legs.

 

When he saw that he was caught, he averted his gaze and went back to his duffel bag to riffle through for some clothes for himself. Sansa watched him as he leaned over his bag, a frown of concentration creasing his features. His shaggy black hair hung in his face and helped obstruct the burns on the side of his face. He would have been kind of handsome if it weren't for them. His nose was long and crooked, like it had been broken, but it suited him.

 

Sansa realized what she was doing a moment too late as he turned his head and raised the eyebrow on the smooth side of his face at her. “Can I help you with something?”

 

“Are you always this hateful?”

 

“I would think you of all people would be glad of the hateful things I do. I was the only one standing between you and your precious handsome Osney when he was going to rape and torture you.”

 

Sansa shuddered at the memory and she was reminded of her nightmare. “I know. Thank you, by the way,” she said as she twisted her hands nervously in her lap. “Did you really kill him?”

 

“Yeah, I did,” he said walking back over to her. “And I would do it again and again if I could.” He had backed her up against the wall and put both hands up to keep her from going to either side.

“You won't hurt me,” she almost whispered as she looked up and met his eyes. He was leaning in so close to her that she could see the flecks of black in his grey eyes. The air was charged and Sansa felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up under his intense stares.

 

“No, little bird, I won't hurt you.”

 

His eyes fell down to her lips when Ygritte came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her. She stopped when she saw them, her eyes wide. “See, I told you,” she directed at Sandor.

 

He snatched the remote off of the bed and threw it as hard as he could at her. She ducked out of the way at the last minute and raised back up looking appalled. She turned her head and looked at the hole it had left in the drywall behind her.

 

“That would have really hurt, you fucking savage!” she yelled at him.

 

“That was the point,” he spat at her.


	17. Midnight Prayers

Xvii. Arya

 

“Ygritte?!”

 

“Arya? What the _hell_ are you doing here?” Ygritte said as she ran up to her and hugged her fiercely.

 

“I'm here with Jon. Does he know you are here?” Arya explained.

 

“Jon is here? Where?” Ygritte asked breathlessly. “I have to talk to him now!”

 

“He's in the room. Do you have a room here or something?”

 

“Arya! Now! I was with The Hound. He kidnapped me and he has Sansa.”

 

Arya felt her eyes grow wide and her jaw drop. “Come on, our room is this way.”

 

They hurried down the breezeway to the room Arya and Jon had gotten. Jon was awake and waiting on her when she walked through the door.

 

“What is so difficult about...” he began before he saw Ygritte coming in behind Arya.

 

“Jon!” she exclaimed as she ran into his arms. They embraced tightly before Jon cradled her head in his hands and kissed her fiercely. Arya watched their tender reunion with a pang of jealousy. She missed Gendry and wondered where he was just now. He hadn’t answered any of the texts she had sent before her phone's battery had died.

 

“What are you doing here?” Jon asked as he held Ygritte close to him like he was afraid to let her go.

 

“The Hound kidnapped me at Gendry's house. He switched me for Sansa and he killed Osney Kettleblack. Cersei wanted him to kill me but he didn't. I don’t know what he wants with Sansa,” she said urgently.

 

“I can guess,” Jon said vehemently. “Where is he? Is he here? I'll fucking kill him.”

 

“They're gone. He kept me locked in the bathroom. When I woke up and broke down the door, they had gone. I don’t know where they are.”

 

_Where is the little bird?_

 

Sansa was the little bird. That’s who he had wanted the night of the party. Did he kill Osney because Osney had gotten to her first, like he had been worried about that night? Is that why he had tried to switch Ygritte for Sansa?

 

“Jon, what do we do?” Arya whispered. She fingered the switchblade in her pocket.

 

“I don’t know,” Jon said looking truly distressed. “I have to think.”

 

“We don’t have time to think, Jon!” Arya yelled at him. “We can't leave her with him!”

 

“Jon, Arya is right. I saw how he looked at her.” Ygritte said softly. “I don’t _know_ that he would do anything, but we can't chance it.”

 

“How are we supposed to find him? I have to worry about you too. I've lost one sister; I cant lose another one and I just now got you back. In case you guys don't remember, the Lannister's are going to be after all of us and with Jaime being the fucking police captain....” he trailed off and sighed heavily. “I can't reach Ned or Jory. I need to talk to Ned.”

 

“Jon,” Ygritte mumbled quietly. The pain was clear on her face. “I heard something when I was with The Hound and Cersei. It's about Ned and Jory.”

 

Arya thought her heart had stopped.

 

_Please don’t let it be what I think it is._

 

Ygritte looked sadly between them. “Jon, Ned and Jory have been murdered.”

 

Arya couldn’t think straight and before she knew how it had happened, she found herself running along the breezeway, her vision was blurred from the tears that were spilling down her cheeks.

 

“Arya! Stop!” She could hear Jon shouting from behind her but she couldn’t stop her feet. She didn’t want to either. She wanted them to carry her far away from this nightmare that she couldn't wake up from. She felt a firm hand grab her arm and pull her into the warmth of an embrace. She was sobbing into him and could feel his labored breathing as his chest rose and fell. They fell to the cement walkway and held each other as they shared the fresh wave of grief washing over them.

 

_How many more of the people she loved was she going to lose?_

 

Arya resolved to pay back the people who had shattered her world to pieces.

 

_Cersei. The Hound. Osney._

 

How many more people would she have added to the list by the time she felt satisfied? At least one could already be crossed off of the list. The Hound had killed Osney.

 

“We have to find your mom,” Jon breathed heavily. Arya knew what it must have taken for him to admit it. Her mother had never been warm to Jon. “Do you think she would be with Edmure or The Blackfish? What about Lysa?”

 

Arya knew that with her husband dead, Catelyn would probably find safety in her brother or uncle. It seemed as likely of a option as any. “Probably not.”

 

If Jon thought that he could ship her off to her uncle's, then he was severely mistaken. This was her fight now too. _Her_ dad. _Her_ brother. _Her_ sister. She had loved Theon and Jory just as much as Jon had.

 

The day was spent making plans about what they should do about Sansa. Jon felt responsible to get Arya and Ygritte somewhere safe so he was free to go look for Sansa.

 

Arya was barely listening as he and Ygritte argued. She had already made her own plans.

 

That night, as Jon and Ygritte slept, Arya snuck out of the room and headed for Gendry's house. If he wanted to come with her then fine, if not, that was fine too. She was going to go find them with or without his help.

 

_Cersei. The Hound._

 

_Cersei. The Hound._


	18. Your One Stop Shop

Xviii. Sandor

 

_Does the little bird ever quit her chirping?_

 

At least when she had been afraid of him, she had been quiet.

 

“I don’t get it. Why did you leave Ygritte and not me? She's just going to go to the police,” she asked him.

 

“The police are already going to be looking for us. Jaime Lannister is the Captain of the police station and Tywin Lannister is the fucking Commissioner. _That's_ why you need to stay with me. No one is going to want her,” he tried explaining. He didn't know where any of her family was except for Robb, who was either dying in the hospital or dead and in the morgue and he hadn’t told her about her father. He had seen her younger sister but she wasn't going to be a very formidable opponent with the fury of the Lannister house tumbling down on them. If he knew where that sullen cousin, the Targaryen boy, was...

 

_Would you give her up? Can you trust anyone else to keep her safe? Is it even still about that?_

 

He shook the idea from his head with a grunt of disapproval.

 

“What is it?” she said looking over at him. He looked back. She was smiling slightly in a vaguely amused kind of way. She was smiling for him.

 

_Get yourself together, you pansy._

 

“Nothing,” he grunted.

 

“Well, can we at least go to my apartment to get some of my things? I don’t have anything.” She must be out of her mind.

 

“No,” he barked harshly. “What do you need so goddamn bad that is worth your life?”

 

“Nothing,” she said quietly into her lap. “Just stuff.”

 

Sandor sighed. Women were so needy. “We can stop at a store tonight. You can get what you need there.”

 

“What, like a Wal-mart?” she said distastefully.

 

He looked over at her with his jaw dropped. “Please tell me this not some social class vanity thing.” She was quiet again after that for a long time.

 

It was midday when his stomach started growling. They hadn’t eaten anything that morning and he had woken her early. He was trying his hardest not to think about that morning. He had gotten up early to go outside and take a piss and wake up Sansa. When he came back into the room, he had found her in the bed laying on her stomach with one leg hitched up. She had kicked off the covers and her skirt had ridden up exposing her firm round ass cheeks and a cock-hardening glimpse of her slit through her sheer panties. Even the memory made his face and neck break out in a sweat.

 

“I'm hungry. Let's grab something to eat,” he huffed as he pulled off onto one of the exit ramps.

 

“Where are we?” Sansa asked.

 

“Hell if I know but there were some signs for some fast food joints. Aren't you hungry?” he asked her as he wrapped his arm over the back of the passenger side seat to look over his shoulder to merge into the slower traffic. His hand had grazed her hair and pushed it off of her shoulder and neck. The sight of her exposed neck always made something animalistic inside of him come alive. She had barely seemed to notice.

 

“What kind of fast food?” she asked in a voice that was dripping in disdain.

 

He pulled into a gas station to fill up, slamming on the brakes at one of the pumps. He turned on her. “Christ girl, are you always this snobby? Does everything bourgeois make your privileged little cunt dry up at the thought of it?”

 

She blushed a violent crimson and looked at him with her mouth open in horror.

 

“What? I can't use big words?” he spat at her even though he knew damn well that that was not the cause of her shock. He got out and slammed the door behind him. He stalked inside to pay for the gas. He didn’t have credit cards or a bank account. The IRS didn’t recognize organized crime as a viable means of income. Every bit of money he had was with him in cash. What wasn't in his wallet or in his duffel bag was sewn into the stuffing of the backseat. It was the safety net. If they burned through what he had in his duffel bag, then they were clearly doing things Sansa's way.

 

He also had a .45 sewn into the stuffing right underneath Sansa's creamy white ass. He hated guns but would use one if he had to. The throbbing in his leg was a reminder as to why he hated guns so much.

 

As he walked through the gas station, a stab of pain ran through his upper thigh and through his hip. Limping wasn’t very good for the intimidating look he was going for.

 

He paid for the gas and walked back to the car. His leg was hurting so bad that he sat in the back passenger seat as the gas pumped into the tank.

 

“Are you ok?” she said as she turned around.

 

He scoffed and pulled his sunglasses back down over his eyes. “Sure. Dandy. Why?”

 

“You were limping,” she said obviously.

 

“Bullet wounds hurt. I'll survive.”

 

He eyes flew open wide and she stared at him with pity written across her features. “You got shot? Is there anything-”

 

“Don't,” he scolded her. “I've been shot before and I will get shot again. Pain is something I’m all too familiar with, so please, no more condoling looks.” The fuel nozzle clicked off and he got out of the car. “Think about what lowly peasant food you wouldn't mind deigning to eat.”

 

He limped around the car and slid back into the driver's seat and pulled away from the pump.

 

“So, whats the verdict? What are you willing to eat?” he asked her as he looked left and right. Wherever they were, there was a good selection.

 

“Can we sit down somewhere? There is an Olive Garden!” she said excitedly.

 

He felt himself wanting to smile. “You know we shouldn't. I was thinking drive-thru so we can get back on the road.”

 

“Ok,” she said, her face falling, looking back around for another option.

 

Sandor sighed. He wouldn’t mind some descent food himself. Plus, they didn’t have wine at Taco Bell. “Fine.”

 

She looked over and beamed at him. A little delay would be worth that alone.

 

_Stop thinking shit like that you little pussy._

 

There hadn’t even been a wait. They had been escorted to a table as soon as Sansa sang her polite little song for the hostess. Sandor sat down immediately as soon as the young round girl showed them to their table. Sansa shot him a disappointed look.

 

_Was there something she expected me to do?_

 

Before the fat hostess had a chance to get away, Sandor grabbed her attention. “Tell the waitress to come with a carafe of the best Cabernet you have.” She scuttled off and he noticed Sansa was staring at him over her menu. “What?”

 

“You have to drive,” she said as if it was obvious.

 

“And?”

 

“You are going to drink an entire carafe of wine?”

 

The fat hostess brought them the wine and a basket of breadsticks. The smell of garlic and fresh bread making his stomach rumble. He reached into the folded napkin and pulled out a steaming piece of bread and devoured half of it in one bite. “You don’t like Cabernet?” he said through a mouth full of bread. He reached for the carafe and one of the glasses.

 

“Is that for us?” she asked. She looked at him expectantly but didn’t say anything. He shoved the rest of his breadstick in his mouth and took a healthy gulp of the tart wine.

 

It didn’t escape his attention that what she had been expecting was for him to pour her a glass too.

 

_Not everyone is your servant, girl._

 

She poured the wine with delicate touches and gracefully lifted the glass to her lips, the dark wine staining her lips. She smiled at him over the rim of her glass.

 

“What are you getting?” she asked.

 

When the last of his lasagna and most of her chicken alfredo was gone, he motioned for the waiter. He snatched up the bill and slapped some money into the little black book. He gulped the last of his wine and looked over to Sansa. “Let's go,” he said.

 

“Hang on, I need to go to the bathroom before we go,” she said modestly.

 

He had to agree.

 

They parted ways by the bathrooms. When he finished washing his hands, he stood beside the women's door to wait for her. She was taking a pretty long time and after a moment he began to worry.

 

_Did she come out before I did?_

 

He looked around the restaurant for a glimpse of her but found nothing. He went back to the bathrooms and cracked the door. “Sansa?” he called. “Are you still in there?”

 

“Go away!” she shouted. As he was letting the door close he heard her call out to him.”Sandor!”

 

He had to stop himself from barging into a women's bathroom in the middle of an Olive Garden. “Is everything all right?” he called back.

 

“Can you please come in here?”

 

His heart fell and he stormed inside looking around for signs of trouble. “Sansa?”

 

“I'm here,” she said with a quavering voice coming from one of the stalls. The bathroom was thankfully empty except for her but he was still anxious to get out.

 

“What the hell is it?” he whispered roughly.

 

“I-I need something.” She sounded like she was crying.

 

_What the fuck?_

 

“What the hell is it?” he breathed quickly. Just as long as he got out of here quickly.

 

“Oh!” he heard her lament to herself. “I don’t have any money. I need a couple of quarters. Its- Its a feminine problem.”

 

Understanding hit him like a ton of bricks. “Why didn't you just say so?!” He looked around for the machine and found it. He dug in his pockets and brought out a handful of change. Selecting two quarters out of the small pile he put them in and twisted the knob. He pulled it out of the opening and passed it to Sansa underneath the wall of the stall. “Are you good? Can I please leave now?”

 

“Yes. Thank you. I'll be right out,” she moaned. She was mortified.

 

She couldn't look at him for the rest of the day until it was dark and he found himself needing sleep.

 

“Let's go get whatever stuff you need and then we can find some place to crash,” he told her.

 

She nodded silently as they drove on. He really didn’t see what the big deal was. He had never had to deal with a woman's cycle before but it's not as if he was a child. He knew that it happened to all of them. What was so embarrassing about it. He had probably dealt with a lot more blood that whatever she had faced in the Olive Garden bathroom.

 

He was just thankful he was a man.

 

He pulled off onto a looping exit ramp and gunned it. She squealed and grabbed onto the door to keep herself from falling over. She looked over at him with a terrified look on her face. He gave her a small smile and found himself thankful that she was on his right. On the good side of his face. She managed a small smile back.

 

_Why do you care?!_

 

He pulled into a Wal-mart and looked at her in mock sympathy. “There isn’t exactly going to be anything else. This will be quick and convenient.”

 

She nodded and sat looking at him. He opened the door and got out. She hurried out and looked at him alarmed. “Can't I just go in by myself?”

 

“Fuck no, if I can buy you tampons in a bathroom at Olive Garden then I can do it in a Wal-mart.”

 

He started to walk through the dark parking lot towards the store and heard quick footsteps behind him. She came up and looped her arms through the crook of his elbow. She was shivering and it looked like it was going to snow.

 

They walked in through the automatic doors and he was hit with the bright beams of fluorescent lighting. He grabbed a cart and made towards the toiletries section. “Ok, what do you need?”

 

“I told you, I don’t have any money,” she mumbled.

 

“I know that. Just get whatever the hell you need. I could use some stuff myself.”

 

As they started to go through and get her her junk she started to smile again. It took her about 10 mins to pick out a shampoo and conditioner but other than that everything went pretty quickly. When they got to the feminine care isle she blushed deeply. He scoffed and led her to where the scent of perfumed vagina stuff was overwhelming. She grabbed a box of something without barely a glance and hurried off to get some deodorant.

 

“Ok. I guess that is everything,” she said finally.

 

“Do you not want some clean clothes?” he asked. “You smell pretty awful.” It wasn’t a lie but it also wasn't her. It was that grimy shirt he had given her. It had been blood and sweat stained when he had given it to her but she clearly took it personally.

 

_Please don’t start crying in the middle of this fucking store. It's already obvious that I’ve kidnapped you._

 

He walked over to the clothing and inspected the cheap made-in-China garbage. He grabbed a couple of plain t-shirts  that he knew were going to be snug once they were washed but who knew when he could wash what he had?

 

She wandered over to the girls stuff and started picking up a few things. She found some jeans and some t-shirts of her own and brought them over to him. “Can I get these?” she asked shyly.

 

“Sure,” he said trying to sound as enthusiastic as he could. He still felt awkward about the whole you-smell-like-shit comment.

 

“I need some more underwear,” she said quietly. He looked around and found where the underwear was. He could use some too. As he grabbed a cheap pack of boxer briefs, he let her shop in privacy for her unmentionables. She came back with several new pairs of panties and a couple of bras that he wouldn't allow himself to look at.

 

He paid for everything and hauled it all out to the car. She seemed to be in a lighter mood despite picking out tampons and underwear with him. She helped him load it into the trunk and climbed in to the passenger seat as bubbly as she had been earlier that afternoon.

 

He climbed in and put the key into the ignition. Her hand fell onto his forearm and he looked up at her, alarmed.

 

“Thank you, Sandor,” she mumbled quietly into the silence of the car.

 

“Sure, little bird,” he grumbled back to her. The watch on his wrist read about 1:35. “Let's go get some sleep.”

 

The spot on his arm was still on fire long after she had let go.


	19. And the Rain Starts Falling

Xviiii. Sansa

 

“Stay here,” he growled to her. “I'll go in alone and get the room. It will be a lot less memorable.”

 

He got out of the car and closed the door quickly behind him. He hardly had to tell her to stay put. It had started to pour down sheets of freezing rain moments after they had left the Wal-mart parking lot and it hadn't let up. He put up the hood of his zip up sweater that he had on underneath his leather jacket and briskly walked into the office of the tiny motel.

 

_Good thing he bought that hoodie at Wal-mart earlier. He would be cold with only the jacket._

 

He hurried back out through the rain and jumped back into the car. He shook off the sweater hood and licked at the water running into the corner of his lips. Even with the hood up, the deluge of icy rain had plastered some of his hair to his face. He combed it back but it just fell down again, still dripping into his lap. He looked over at her and she realized she had been staring. She dropped her gaze from his but felt him still looking at her. She adopted an overly casual attitude and looked back up to him. He was scrutinizing her with a small frown creasing between his eyebrows.

 

“Good to go?” she said.

 

“Yeah, number 12 is us,” he said pulling out into the parking lot.

 

There were only about thirty rooms total. A top floor and a ground floor. The motel was designed to be retro and nostalgic. There was an abundance of pink neon lighting around the trim and the architecture was screaming mid-century modern. She could only imagine what the inside would look like.

 

Sandor backed into the space closest to their door and reached into his pocket for the key. He held it up and jingled it. The keychain was a bright pink flamingo and a palm tree. “I thought you'd appreciate this place,” he said. She could never tell if he was mocking her or just trying to be funny. Does he care enough to try to be funny? She didn’t think he was trying to be cruel but sometimes she couldn’t tell.

 

“Why, because I'm a girl and so I must automatically love pink?”

 

“Well, don’t you?” he said eying the heels she had worn to the party. They were neon pink. The fact was, she loved pink. Like, bright Barbie pink.

 

“That's beside the point,” she chided him. “My sister hates pink and she's a girl.”

 

Sandor scoffed. “Are you sure about that?”

 

She giggled as he opened the door and hurried out and under the balcony above the door to their room. She steeled herself and took a deep breath. This was going to be painfully cold. Even though the safety of the balcony was only about 6 feet away, she was soaked and shivering by the time she ran up to Sandor's side. He opened the door and walked in to turn on the lights and look around. She stepped in quickly and shut the door behind her. The inside was just as delightfully tacky as the outside but it at least seemed clean. It was kitschy and retro in a 1950's Nuclear era kind of way.

 

There was only one bed.

 

“Let me go get our stuff out of the car so you can get dry and warm,” he said as he turned back to look at her. He looked her in the eyes as he spoke to her but his gaze quickly fell to her chest. As quickly as he had looked down, he looked away and walked out of the door without another word.

 

When he was gone she looked down and felt her face grow hot. The once baggy white shirt was soaked through and clinging to her breasts. Osney had ruined the bra she had been wearing and she had long since thrown it away. Her nipples were hard points pushing against the thin fabric that was now completely transparent. She hurried into the bathroom and pulled one of the towels off of the rack. She unbuttoned the shirt and folded it up into the towel to try to blot out some of the water. When she pulled it out, it was still see-through so she took off all of her clothes and peeked around the corner when she heard Sandor come back into the room.

 

“Would you please hand me my new clothes?” she asked him. He must have realized that she was naked because his eyes fell to her bare shoulders before he looked through one of the bags and handed it to her.

 

“Im going to take a shower,” she called through the door.

 

“Fine, just save me some hot water,” he called back.

 

The shower warmed her through to her bones and took away the chill. She lathered her hair with the new shampoo and smoothed through the new conditioner. When she rinsed it this time, it felt soft and fine and was tangle free. She dried herself off and put on her new jeans and a soft t-shirt. She wished she could have washed everything before she wore it but she was happy to finally be covered up and warm.

 

When she came out of the bathroom, he was lying on the bed and was skimming through the channels.

 

“Is it my turn yet?” he asked as she came over and sat on the edge of the bed.

 

“All through,” she said as she laid down beside him to watch TV.  The bed was big enough that there was a comfortable distance between them but she could see him tense out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and looked for the remote. He was holding onto it in the hand that was closest to her and she went to snatch it playfully out of his hand. He was faster and stronger though and held on tight to it.

 

“You are going to take a shower anyway,” she said with a giggle.

 

He kept his eyes facing the TV but slight grin reached the corners of his lip and eye. She tugged on the remote but before it slipped through his fingers, he jerked his arm and her over almost completely on top of him. Her chest was pressed against his arm and she felt her heart flutter as he looked into her eyes. She felt her shoulders quivering as she raised herself up onto the arm that wasn't still locked onto the remote. That arm was wrapped around his chest and she felt the taught solid muscle of his abdomen beneath the thin cotton of his t-shirt. She felt a tingle run up her spine as he held her gaze. His eyes dropped to her lips when she felt them part uncontrollably.

 

His stormy grey eyes had darkened when he looked back into her wide blue ones. Without her permission or knowing that she had done it, she looked down at his mouth that was still twisted into a playful grin that didn’t  touch the burnt side of his lips. The skin looked smooth and wrinkled and she suddenly felt her self wondering what it would feel like to touch her mouth to his.

 

She swallowed past a lump in her throat and ignored the butterflies that were fluttering through her stomach as she relaxed her shoulder that was supporting her weight and dipped into him a fraction of an inch further, the remote forgotten. She felt his muscles tighten further under her arm and suddenly he gently was pushing her off of him.

 

“Im going to take a shower,” he said in a deep and quiet voice. He tossed the remote down onto the bed beside her. “Watch anything you want.”

 

He sat up and raised himself off of the bed and went into the bathroom.

 

 _Did I try to_ kiss _him?_

 

Whatever it was that had just happened, Sandor had not liked it very much. Even if she had wanted to kiss him, just out of curiosity, he had clearly not wanted the same thing. He had pushed her away.

 

She laid back and grabbed the remote. As she clicked through the channels, her thoughts wandered and she found herself unable to concentrate on what she was watching. The sting of rejection hit her. Why didn't he want to kiss her, though?

 

_Why is this bothering you so much?_

 

She had a feeling that this was a lot more of a pride thing than a personal slight. She wasn't used to guys denying her flirtations. Even though she had definitely not been flirting with Sandor.

 

She heard the shower turn off and a few minutes later, Sandor emerged from the bathroom. He was still rubbing a towel through his hair to dry it. He threw the towel into the corner and looked at her through the pieces that were hanging in his face. She met his stare and she suddenly felt like she was being hunted. Like she was prey that was locked into the wolf's sights. His gaze felt dangerous and primal, like a wild and hungry animal. She was reminded of the first time she saw his at Saltpans.

 

She froze when he started to take slow steps towards her. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest.

 

“D-Did you enjoy your shower?” she asked. Anything to make him stop looking at her like that.

 

He stood beside the bed, ignoring her question, and lowered himself onto his knuckles on either side of her head. He bowed his shoulders and brought his face inches away from her. For a moment, she stopped breathing.

 

_He won't hurt you._


	20. Facinating Revelations

  1. Tyrion




 

It would seem impossible to anyone other than Tyrion. He didn’t believe anything was truly impossible. Sandor was underestimated in his intelligence but this seemed a little careless.

 

Stopping in Oldtown for lunch at Olive Garden and a shopping trip?

 

Tyrion had gone into the restaurant after them and sat at the bar area. It was out of the way but with a high up view. What he had witnessed as he drank through a carafe of wine of his own, was something he wasn't sure he had understood.

 

When he had first come in behind them, he was afraid they would notice him. He wasn't exactly inconspicuous. How many dwarfs frequented Olive Garden? He soon realized that he could have been their fucking waiter and they might still not have noticed him. Sansa was smiling easily and slurping up her noodles as playfully as someone who has most assuredly _not_ been kidnapped while The Hound drank his wine and seemed to be about as charming as a log. Whatever he had been saying to her though, she had been enjoying his company. He didn’t smile or laugh but he was not in his normal 'guard dog' mode. He wasn’t The Hound. He was just surly Sandor, whoever that was.

 

She even reached out a touched his arm at one point. If Tyrion hadn't know any better, it would have looked just like a date.

 

When he saw Clegane pay for the meal and get up, Tyrion jumped off of the barstool and hurried into the bathroom to hide. The bar was so close to the exit that he was sure that they would notice him this time. Moments later, he heard Sandor's bark on the other side of the door and bolted for one of the stalls. He had just hoped up on the rim of the toilet so his feet didn’t show underneath, when he heard heavy footsteps coming into the bathroom.

 

_If he opens this stall door to take a shit, then I’m dead. I don’t want to die in a public bathroom._

 

To his sweet relief and after what felt like a minor stroke, Tyrion heard the unmistakeable sounds of Sandor pissing into the urinal. It wasn't until Tyrion heard the sounds of running water coming from the sink, that he realized he hadn't been breathing. He slowly sucked in a lungful of air and exhaled when he heard the door open and Sandor stomp out.

 

Tyrion felt like all of his nerves were electrically charged but allowed himself to breath deeply. He wasn't even that mad when his foot slipped off of the seat of the toilet and into the cold water of the bowl with an audible splash. He froze again for a moment, hoping that Clegane hadn't heard that and gave a mirthful chuckle after a few seconds of silence. He hadn't been found and he hadn't been torn apart by a rabid dog.

 

He had started to dab at the water on his pants, when he heard the most fascinating conversation through the wall.

 

Captors and captives didn’t speak so intimately about things like that and Sandor had sounded truly worried when she had called him into the women's bathroom.

 

Whatever had happened between the two of them, Tyrion was sure of one thing.

 

_Sansa isn't with him against her will, at least not anymore._


	21. The Dangers of Zyr

Xxi. Sandor

 

_What the hell was that?_

 

Sandor took off his clothes and turned on the water as hot as he could stand it. His body was still tingling and his face felt like it was on fire again except this time, it was only her stare that had melted him. For whatever reason, Sansa had been thinking about kissing him and for whatever reason, he had pushed her away.

 

 _Why the ever-loving_ fuck _had he pushed her away?_

 

He scrubbed himself clean in the hot water and cursed himself for the possible missed opportunity. Who the hell was kidding, she wouldn't have kissed him anyway. Not really. Why on earth would she?

 

He let the hot water relax his tense muscles until it ran cold. He got out of the shower and dried himself off and dressed in his jeans and one of his new shirts. It was tight, just like he knew it would be. He couldn’t shake the memory of her parted lips. If she wanted to kiss him then he would let her, and if she didn’t want to kiss him then he would steal one.

 

He rubbed his hair with the towel and came out of the bathroom. Sansa was still lying on the bed watching TV. Her hair was splayed out on the pillow around her. The muscles in her long elegant throat worked around a lump when she looked over to him. He felt something primal stir inside of him and he remembered when he had pinned her to the bed. She had thought he was going to rape her.

 

_You may want to but you know damn well that you couldn’t do that to her. You aren’t Osney._

 

“D-Did you enjoy your shower?” She asked him. Was she scared of him?

 

He walked over and stood over her. She didn't move and she couldn’t look away from him. She was frozen. He bent low over her and trapped her between his arms. He bowed so low that they were sharing the thin space of charged air between them. That is, they would if she would start breathing again.

 

_I'll take that kiss now._

 

He took one last look at the lips he was so hungry for and closed the remaining space between them. She gasped, stealing the wind from his open mouth, but didn’t resist. Her mouth were tense but it quickly softened. Her eyes fluttered closed and she parted her lips. He stared at her through his eyelashes before he let his eyes close too. He ran the tip of his tongue along her lower lip and felt his cock stiffen as a whimper escaped her.

 

He pulled away from her before he lost himself in the feel of her trembling beneath him. He felt a dull throb in his jeans which were suddenly too tight and painfully constricting. At the loss of contact, her eyes flew open and he could see that they were glazed over with arousal.

 

_What the fuck had gotten into her?_

 

Before he could do something he would regret, he snatched up his jacket and walked out to his car.

 

Surely the guy in the office would know of a liquor store somewhere close. He would sleep in his car tonight. No way that he was going to sleep in the same room as her tonight. He didn’t know how much he could control himself. This girl had burrowed under his skin ever since he had seen her at Lannisport with that douchebag Osney.

 

_Good riddance, fucker._

 

He had done everything he could to save her and now he was just one more thing she needed to be saved from. He coaxed the stubborn engine into to turning over and drove to the office. He burst through the door a bit more violently than he had intended.

 

_Way to stay unmemorable._

 

The boy behind the counter looked harassed at first, but when he looked over his Juggs magazine, he looked terrified. The kid hadn’t had a chance to see his face when he had rented the room. He had had his hood up but this time he was soaked, angry and his maimed face was in full effect.

 

“Everything all right with the room?” the kid trembled.

 

“Peachy. Where is a liquor store close?” Sandor demanded.

 

The boy gave him directions and Sandor went back out to his car. He started the engine again with minimal protest and put it into first gear. The liquor store was extremely close. He picked up a bottle of Zyr and paid the middle aged woman behind the counter. She sounded like she had smoked one too many cigarettes in her life. He jogged back out to his car and had started to open the door again when a voice came from behind him. The man's voice was almost lost in the din of the storm.

 

“Don't move! Turn slowly around and hand over whatever the fuck it was that you just bought. I'll take all of your money too.”

 

Sandor turned around slowly and looked at the apparently insane person who thought it would be a good idea to rob him. This dude was at almost a foot shorter than he was and as skinny as a rail. In his hand was a switchblade. This guy must be tweeking out of his mind to try sticking up someone twice his size with nothing more than a switchblade.

 

Sandor felt a laugh bubble up out of his chest before he could help himself. “Look dude, I’m not sure what the fuck you are on, but this is not going to go well for you.”

 

Just as Sandor finished talking the man lunged out at him with the knife. Sandor grabbed the man's wrist and twisted. There was a crunching of bones that Sandor felt underneath his tight grasp more than he actually heard, but not before the knife bit deeply into the joints on the inside of his fingers. The man screamed and dropped the knife and Sandor let go of his wrist to grab the man by the hair. He dragged the man over to the curb he had parked along and slammed the man's face into the concrete edge. Blood and what looked like a tooth poured from the man's mouth and nose and Sandor picked him up just to slam it down again. He felt the front of the man's face give and his body went limp.

 

He was relieved to notice he was still gripping the unscathed bottle of vodka in his left hand.

 

Sandor flung his injured hand down by his side, spraying a fan of blood along the side of his car. He inspected his hand in the dim light of the street lamp. The rain was washing away most of the blood and the cold felt good, but the cuts were deep and the wounds kept flowing. The two on his index finger and middle finger had gone down to the bone. The blade must have been sharp. He had hardly felt it at the time. He tore up one of his old t-shirts that he found in the trunk and wrapped his fingers up tightly, cursing all the while. He had the wound on his thigh, the slice on his wrist and now this shit. He'd be lucky if none of it got infected. Luckily, this wasn't the middle ages and they had penicillin. A hospital visit would be out of the question right now. He drove back to the hotel and pulled into the same space he had been in.

 

He looked down at the bottle of alcohol on the seat beside him.

 

If he went and got drunk, he was going to be worthless tomorrow. He wouldn't want to drive all day. He was going to have to tough out all of this sappy shit and all this pain shit without the help of alcohol.

 

_Fuck it._

 

He cursed and snatched it up anyway. He got out of the car and trotted to the door when he realized he didn’t have his key. He had left it in the pants that were now on the floor in the bathroom. He pounded on the wall beside the door and he cursed some more. This was turning out to be an awesome night. He had started to walk back out into the rain and to his car when he heard the door open and the pattering of running footsteps behind him.

 

He turned around and was met by the little bird right there in front of him. She had been crying. She looked up at him and there was a look on her face he wasn't sure about.

 

_She's happy to see you, you animal._

 

Suddenly, before he knew it was happening, she was hugging him and crying into his chest. If this was what a hug felt like, he wasn't digging it. He was frozen and completely at a loss for what he should be doing. She looked up at him accusingly with the pain clear in her eyes.

 

“I thought you had left me,” she said. She pulled away from him. “Please don’t be mad about-”

 

“We won't go into that,” he interrupted. How could he be mad about something that had been so inherently good? “I have other things to worry about,” he said as he held up the bottle of alcohol and his bandaged hand.

 

Her eyes went back and forward and then grew wide. “What happened?!”

 

“Nothing I care to talk about,” he said shortly pushing past her and back into the hotel room. He shrugged out of his jacket and grabbed the towel that he had thrown on the floor earlier. He ran it through his soaked hair allowing the persistent pieces to fall into his face. He had thought about having it cut, but at least the long pieces in front helped to hide some of the scarring on his face.

 

Sansa pattered gracefully on tip-toe into the room behind him and shut the door. “Can I help?” she asked quietly.

 

He held up the bottle of good vodka for her. “Here, open this.”

 

She opened it obediently and handed it back to him. He gulped down several mouthfuls before he set it down on the table by the bed. He sat down and slowly unwrapped his hand. He looked around for another shirt to tear up and noticed that the white button up he had given her was balled up and on the pillow on the bed.

 

_Where had that come from? Did she not throw it away?_

 

When the last layer of cloth came free from his skin, the fresh wounds started pouring again. He took another couple of gulps of the vodka and jerked his head in Sansa's direction. She looked pale but walked over to him anyway.

 

“Here,” he said handing her the bottle. “I need to clean this.”

 

She took the bottle from him and seemed to visibly steel herself. To his complete amusement, she upended the bottle and took a long pull of the vodka before she cupped his hand in her own and started to dribble a thin line into the cuts on his fingers. He hissed and sucked in a deep breath through his teeth.

 

“I'm sorry!” she said as she stopped.

 

“Keep pouring,” he barked at her through gritted teeth.

 

When she was done, he leaned over and grabbed the old dirty white shirt. He ignored the worried look he saw on her face. It wasn't that dirty. He torn off a strip and wrapped his fingers up so that he could still move them independently.

 

“Tie it off for me.” He held out his hand and she took it gingerly in her own. Her thin delicate fingers fashioned a square knot with the two ends.

 

“Is that ok?” she asked him timidly.

 

“That's good. As long as I have such a capable nurse her, I really should clean the other two,” he said to her.

 

“Other two?”

 

“Other two gaping and bleeding injuries.”

 

She winced but nodded her head. “Yeah, makes sense,” she said before she took another long gulp of the vodka.

 

He smiled at her and took the bottle for another drink himself. He unwrapped the bandage around his wrist but found that it had already closed up. He ripped off another strip of the silk/cotton blend and wrapped it anyway to protect the fragile new skin. He knew he wouldn’t be so lucky with the bullet wound on his thigh. This was going to hurt.

 

He stood up and took the bottle from her and started to walk into the bathroom. “What are you doing?” she asked after him.

 

“I'll do this one myself.”

 

“I can help,” she blushed. “I don’t mind helping.”

 

He had to admit, it would be infinitely easier with her to help. The bullet had gone all the way through and to clean the back of his leg was going to be difficult. He sighed heavily and walked back over to the bed where she was still kneeling. He wasn't sure how in control of himself he could be, but there was no way he was going to stop himself from getting hard while he took off his pants with her kneeling down in front of him. He took a deep breath and had to look away from her as he started to undo his belt.

 

_Think of anything else but her, and whatever you do, don’t look at her._

 

He unbuttoned his pants and started to push them down his legs. Of course, he looked straight into her face but she wasn't looking back at his. Her eyes were eye level with his cock and she was staring straight at the growing bulge in his underwear. He squeezed the fresh cuts on his fingers and felt himself go soft from the pain.

 

_She really is a virgin. She has never seen a grown man this exposed before. She's just curious so don't flatter yourself._

 

He cleared his throat, more for his benefit than for hers, but it brought her eyes back up to him. She blushed and started to unwrap the cloth around his thigh and gasped at the blood that trickled down his leg. He grabbed the shirt and handed it to her. She quickly put it under the flow of blood to keep it off of his pants as he grabbed the bottle and took one last greedy gulp. It was finally starting to warm him and numb some of his senses. She took it from him and laughed.

 

“Don't drink it all,” she scolded but her eyes were twinkling from their own inebriation as she took another measure of her own and stared at him. “Are you ready?”

 

“Just hurry up and get it over with. I’m losing my buzz over here.” She poured a thin trickle onto the front and then the back of his outer thigh where the bullet had torn through the thick muscles. It hurt but the effects of the vodka were thankfully catching up with him. He seemed to feel her hand low on the inside of his leg far more than the burn of the alcohol in the wound.

 

Before she had poured it on, he had smelled the telltale scent of festering flesh. The bandage that had been wrapped around it had gotten wet too many times and the wound had never been cleaned. He hoped that the vodka would help but he was sure that he would have to get some antibiotics from somewhere.

 

When she was done, she handed him the bottle that still had one last drink in it.

 

“You can have it, little bird. You earned it.”

 

She smiled and drank it down in one gulp. She allowed herself one last look at his groin, which he pretended not to notice and stood up to sit down beside him.

 

_She's just curious._

 

She lifted her hand and put it on his thigh, high above his wound. Far too high to be descent or merely concerning. “How does that feel?” she asked him quietly. He had to stop himself from jumping out of his skin. What exactly was she referring to?

 

_That feels amazing._

 

He turned his head slowly to look at her. Her eyes were glazed over from the alcohol and darkened with arousal.

 

_I thought that's whats you were talking about._

 

Her eyes fell to his lips and, he was sure without realizing it, she licked her own. He could think of nothing else but taking her mouth against his and tasting the moisture she had left of her lips. She was willing and wanting and he could have her right now. He thought again of the time he pinned her to the bed and felt his cock get stiff. It didn’t escape her attention. She stared at his mouth and inched closer to him.

 

“It hurt like hell, little bird,” he said as he picked up her hand and took it off of his thigh. He got up and walked towards the bathroom.

 

_She was drunk. Never like this._

 

Jacking off in the shower made him feel like he was a fucking teenager but if he didn’t do something, he wasn't sure how safe she would be around him. He shamefully found a release as he thought about her asleep in the bed only two days ago, her soft white and pink skin  peeking out from underneath her mini-skirt, through her sheer panties.

 

_Note to self: keep Sansa away from the sauce._


	22. A Hunting Trip

Xxii. Cersei

 

She had known that keeping The Hound had been a mistake. He had been a loyal employee for Robert but he had been reluctant to answer to her since he heard that Robert had been murdered. She had a feeling that he had suspected her from the beginning and had resented her for it. That is, if an animal like him could even feel something as complex as resentment.

 

Cersei didn’t know if she was happy or disappointed that Sansa was now subject to whatever The Hound had in store for her. It surely wasn't anything pleasant for the uptight little prude but Cersei was extremely bitter that she hadn't been there to witness whatever it was he saw fit to do with her.

 

He had surely raped her and killed her by now. That had to have been a nice little blow to her inflated Stark ego; being The Hound's bitch.

 

_It wasn’t by my hand. It didn’t count._

 

“Any luck?” she asked as Jaime came in through the living room.

 

“With what?” he said casually as he grabbed an olive out of the bowl on the kitchen island and popped it into his mouth.

 

_Please don’t tell me Jaime has become as worthless as all the rest._

 

“Have you or father heard anything about Sansa?” she said through gritted teeth, though she tried her hardest to keep the snarl out of her voice. He seemed not to have noticed her agitation and grinned far too easily. She used to find his easy confidence charming but now it was just cocky. He wasn't serving her purposes like he used to and he didn’t even know or care.

 

“Sansa Stark isn't something we can allow ourselves to worry about,” her father said as he walked around to follow his son. Tywin Lannister always commanded attention and authority from everyone in the room. “We need to be much more concerned with Jon Targaryen.”

 

“But she is a Stark. They are responsible for the party and murdered Joffrey. She was probably the one-” Cersei started to argue.

 

“Your son's careless drug use and lack of self control is the reason he is dead. No one is responsible for his death other than himself and those who were supposed to guide him. The boy needed a father figure in his life and we can now see the product of a lack of a firm hand.” Tywin said finally. “Our focus will center on the Targaryen boy and Catelyn Stark. Sansa doesn't pose a real threat as she was never truly involved or even privy to her father's affairs.”

 

His tone implied that the conversation was not open for discussion. Once he made a decision, he couldn’t be persuaded otherwise so Cersei didn’t push the matter.

 

_I'll have to take care of the Stark girl myself._

 

“Robb Stark died this morning in the intensive care unit. Jon Targaryen will be the only immediate threat from the Stark family,” her father continued.

 

Cersei shot Jaime a nasty look. “Why didn’t you tell me about Robb?”

 

“I didn’t know until just before we got here,” Jaime said as he popped another olive into his mouth and shrugged his shoulders.

 

“If information is so crucial to you, then you should make a point in being a bit more abreast of current situations. It should not fall on your brothers shoulders to keep you informed.” Tywin always had a way of making Cersei feel like she was a child again.

 

She would be sure to keep herself informed from now on. Especially now that her father and her brother were no longer concerned with the disappearance of Sandor Clegane and Sansa Stark. The Hound didn't fear anyone except for one person.

 

If she wanted Sansa, she would have to send Gregor Clegane after The Hound.

 

 

Xxii. Jon

 

“Robb didn't make it,” Jon said quietly to Ygritte.

 

“Did you talk to Gendry?”

 

“Yeah. I’ve also talked to Edmure. He said that Catelyn isn't with him or Brynden.”

 

“Didn't you say she had a sister? Maybe she is with her.”

 

“I don't know. Maybe. I know she has Bran and Rickon to worry about but I don't know how she could just take off and leave Arya and Sansa.”

 

“Sansa is a grown woman and Arya is about as dangerous as anything out there looking for her. The boys need Catelyn more. Plus, Sansa and Arya have you.”

 

Jon looked at Ygritte and grinned.

 

“I'm sorry about Robb,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him. “What was his fiances name?”

 

“Jeyne,” he said hesitating. He didn’t know if he could say the next part without tearing up. “Gendry said she's pregnant. He's taking her to Edmure's place in Riverrun. I’m going to take Arya-”

 

“Take Arya where?” Arya had just come out of the bathroom from taking a shower. She gave her wet hair a small shake and it fell down around her face.

 

Jon gave her an affectionate smile. “You need to go to Riverrun. Just for a little while or you could go stay with The Blackfish. I'll leave it up to you.”

 

“I want to stay with you. We need to find Sansa.”

 

“No. _I_ need to find Sansa. _You_ need to stay safe.” He should have known she was going to be stubborn. “Arya, there is something I need to tell you.”

 

“Is it Robb?” she asked him with a flat voice. She knew it was. They had both been waiting on news for a few days. Luckily Jon had found a cell phone charger in Robb's car.

 

Jon looked at her pained face and nodded. There was no need to elaborate. He guessed that it was from the trauma of having lost so many people that she loved in the past week or maybe it could be attributed to the fact that they had known that it was likely that Robb was going to die, but the defeated look in her eyes and the lack of tears made Jon's heart ache for her.

 

She sat down on the bed beside Ygritte and looked down into her palms. “I'm not going to Riverrun, Jon.”

 

Jon didn’t want to argue with her. He knew that once she had set her mind to something, he wasn't going to be able to change her mind. She was too strong willed and he just didn’t have it in him to pick a fight with Arya. They had both lost so much already. Neither of them could afford to push each other away.

 

_Who was he to tell her that she couldn’t try to protect the ones that she loved?_

 

 

Xxii. Cersei

 

“I've changed my mind. I don’t care about finding Catelyn anymore.”

 

“Is this because you are more interested in the whereabouts of The Hound and Sansa?”

 

“The priorities have shifted slightly.”

 

“I'm sure that Catelyn will be sought after by a good many people now that Ned has mysteriously passed on, but I regret to say that I had a good reason to believe I had all but found her. It would be a shame to change my assignment now.”

 

_That’s just because you want to fuck Catelyn._

 

“Listen Petyr, if you are so confident about Catelyn's whereabouts then I'm sure my father or brother would be quite grateful for this information. I’m concerned about Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane.”

 

“Clegane is not somebody I care to have angry with me,” he said with a curl of his lips. Petyr Baelish was a wormy little son of a bitch.

 

_If this was his way of changing the terms of their agreement..._

 

“As if I would dream of asking you to confront The Hound on your own. I will arrange to have someone a bit more formidable deal with him.” She thought of something to sweeten the deal. It wasn’t Catelyn but it was the next best thing. “If you find them, then whatever is left of the Stark girls dignity can be yours. She the spitting image of her mother. Fuck her in the dark.”

 

Insulting Baelish was not going to be the way to win this, but she knew that the temptation was going to be too strong, even if Sansa was going to be all but ruined from her time with The Hound. He was loyal like a dog, he fought like a dog, she was sure he probably was rutting on Sansa like a dog right now as they spoke. She looked over to Petyr as she snapped out of her sadistic little daydream. He was looking at her with narrowed eyes and an amused look still on his calculating face.

 

He chose to ignore her offer and cut to another point. “There are few who are more formidable than Clegane. That is, unless it's another Clegane. Has The Mountain been employed by the Lannisters now as well?”

 

He was called The Mountain because he was as big as one. If Sandor was a big scary monster, then Gregor certainly was. He was a psychopath but there had really been no other option. No one was bigger and no one was more dangerous.

 

Besides, no one else had shoved The Hounds face down into a fire when he was only a child either.

 


	23. The Best Laid Plans

Xxiii. Arya

 

“How can we hope to find them?” she asked Jon that evening.

 

“Well, its not like they won't be slightly on the conspicuous side. She's a young and beautiful redhead with a towering man with scars covering half of his face.” He shook his head. The longer they waited, the more anxious he became. “Do you know what kind of car he drives?”

 

Arya shook her head. “No, and nothing says he's driving his own car anyway.”

 

Jon scoffed. “He isn’t known for his intelligence, Arya.”

 

_Maybe not, but he isn't stupid._

 

“I know someone we could ask,” she said hopefully. Jon wasn't going to like her idea. “Bronn will know more about The Hound than we will.”

 

“Arya, are you suggesting that we ask one of the people who could have been responsible for Robb or Theon for _help?_ ” Jon was looking at her like she was insane.

 

“I'm suggesting that we do whatever we have to do to keep from losing someone else we love!”

 

“You're right,” he said as he sighed heavily. “I'll go talk to him in the hospital after I take you to Riverrun.”

 

“I'm not-”

 

“Yes, you are! I'm not going to debate you about this! I'm the one taking care of you now and I say you are going to Riverrun! Gendry is still there, I'm surprised you aren’t happier about it!”

 

“What about Ygritte?” Arya said pointing to her. “Does she have to go to Riverrun too?”

 

“Ygritte is her own woman. I wouldn't dare try to tell her what to do even if I was that kind of guy. She wants to come with me and help me find Sansa.”

 

Arya looked at Ygritte and felt the look on her face soften. She knew that Sansa hadn’t been very nice to her and the girl was going to help her anyway. “Fine. I'll go to Riverrun as long as Gendry is still there.”

 

_I'll be able to talk Gendry into going with me._

 

“The Hound isn't someone to play around with. Not to mention, we won't be the only ones to be looking for her. I’m sure Cersei Lannister isn't going to be too happy about her late husbands favorite dog defecting.”

 

“Yeah Jon, I get it,” she said adopting her best dejected tone. “Whatever.”

 

“It's just safer this way.”

 

“I get it, Jon! Lets just fucking go.”

 

She made a point of going around the room and snatching up all of her things like a petulant teenager who wasn’t getting her way. She stuffed her few belongings into the plastic bag that had become her luggage.

 

She could get some new stuff and a bag when she and Gendry left her uncle Edmure's house.

 

Jon and Ygritte exchanged a skeptical look that did not escape Arya's attention. Jon was suspicious of Arya's willingness to cooperate. “It will be nice to see Gendry again anyway. I'm just glad he is ok.” Hopefully that would stave off some of Jon's bright ideas of what she was planning.

 

The trip to Riverrun was a fairly long one. The entire thing passed in almost complete silence.

 

Edmure met them on the front steps of his house with an amiable handshake for Jon and a punch in the shoulder for Arya. He was either very serious or was telling one of the raunchiest jokes Arya had ever heard. Theon had loved him. The thought made Arya suddenly sad all over again.

 

“So you can't invite your favorite uncle to your parties but you invite an old fuck like Bronn?” Edmure ragged to Jon. Her mother had never been overly friendly to Jon but Edmure had always accepted him into the fold.

 

“Hey, Bronn wasn't my idea.”

 

“Do you think he really turned his guns on Robb or Theon?” Edmure asked suddenly serious.

 

“I'd like to think not,” Jon said with a small shake of his head.

 

“He wouldn’t do that!” Arya suddenly felt the need to defend him. She had been talking to Bronn minutes before the shit had hit the fan.

 

“Down, little wolf-bitch,” Edmure chided her. “So, you're staying here too? What is this, Jon, a halfway house?”

 

Jon cracked a smile and looked at Arya sympathetically. “Thanks for giving her and Jeyne a place to stay for a bit.”

 

“It's not a biggie. Is she staying too?” her uncle asked Jon as he nodded towards Ygritte.

 

“No no. I wouldn't do that to you.”

 

“Wouldn't bother me any to have another lovely lady here,” Edmure said looking at Ygritte appreciatively. Ygritte flashed Edmure a coy smile and looked at him through her long red eyelashes.

 

“Easy you two,” Jon said in a placating tone. “If anyone could tame this one, it would be me.”

 

“I'm all his,” Ygritte said looking at Jon softly. “And he's mine.” Arya would never have expected her to say anything like that. She made a vague gagging noise to Edmure and mimed explosive puking behind Jon's back.

 

Edmure smiled and gave an imperceptive nod. “You know, speaking of the mushy shit, your little Casanova is inside with Jeyne. Don't you have any luggage?”

 

_Don’t need much where I'm going._

 

“This is my luggage,” she said as she snatched up her plastic bag and ran up the steps.

 

She and her siblings had come here a lot with her mother when they were little. Her mother always loved it here on the corners of the Red Fork and the Tumblestone rivers in the fall. Arya supposed this was as close to home as she would ever get again. She was surprised that her mother and little brothers weren’t here now. She hoped that they were alright wherever they were.

 

She crossed the familiar living room, now so different than it had been when it had been her grandfather's house. Edmure had clearly done some redecorating and it reeked of proud-bachelor-pad. Everything was clean lined and modern; very trendy. Gendry and Jeyne were watching the big screened TVs. There were four on the long side of one of the walls; all four were on. There were three football games on and one baby show that was far too graphic for Arya's taste. Clearly Jeyne was a bit nervous about the upcoming baby. She didn't know how Gendry was ignoring it but he seemed to be completely engrossed in the games that were on. She had forgotten it was Sunday. If it wasn't her sister that was in jeopardy, Arya could see herself here with Gendry and her uncle watching football for the rest of the season.

 

Gendry seemed completely lost in the games until the Falcons made a TD on the Bears and Arya shouted her disapproval. She knew that that was the game he was paying closest attention to. He was a southern boy and had grown up outside of Atlanta so he would be most interested in that game.

 

He whipped his head around so quickly she feared for the safety of neck and noticed her for the first time. He vaulted over the back of the couch and trotted over to her and scooped her up into a tight bear hug.

 

Once again, she felt butterflies-

 

_Not butterflies, hummingbirds._

 

Flutter through her stomach as he held onto her.

 

“I'm so happy you are ok,” he whispered into her ear. She smiled and started to say something to him but he held one calloused finger up to her lips. He furrowed his brow and jerked his head towards the kitchen. Arya followed him with their fingers entwined to the small kitchen.

 

_Yeah, totally a bachelor pad._

 

Clearly, the kitchen had not been a priority in the remodel. Gendry moved around the small island getting two tumblers and a can of Pepsi out of the fridge. He reached under the island, which Arya now realized was only a table, and produced a bottle of rum. He made them a couple of cocktails and smiled at her as he handed her her drink.

 

She took it from him and smiled back. “I'm glad you are ok too.”

 

“I just didn’t want to rub anything in Jeyne's face. Plus, im trying to get you drunk,” he said with his most winning mischievous smile. Gendry moved in close and pressed his body into hers.

 

“You think I need to be drunk,” she said as she quirked one of her eyebrows up.

 

“You have been through a lot.”

 

“We both have,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I need your help, Gendry.”

 

“Anything,” he murmured as he pressed his forehead down onto hers.

 

“I have to find Sansa. I can't lose my whole family.” She felt the tears prickle the backs of her eyes.

 

“I'll help you find Sansa,” he said as he dropped his gaze from hers. “But I could be your family.”

 

Arya smiled into his lips as he kissed her passionately. “You wouldn't be my family,” she said as she gasped between kisses. “You could be my lover. My protector. My husband.”

 

Gendry picked Arya up by the tops of her thighs and put on top of the table that was serving as an island. He pressed his body close into hers as she straddled him. She felt the hard length of his arousal pressing into her leg as he leaned into her. “I could be anything you need me to be.”

 

"Gendry! My uncle!" she gasped as he laid her onto her back on top of the island. "Jon and Edmure are right outside!"

 

"I can make you my lady until they interupt," he whispered into her ear, his breath hot and moist against her neck.


	24. Mixed Signals

Xxiiii. Sansa

 

This was the second time in a week that she had woken up with a pounding headache. Only this time, she wasn't in the back of an Escalade on her way to be raped and murdered. She didn't dare open her eyes just yet. The faint glow of light coming in through her eyelids was painful enough. She wanted to snuggle back into the warm bed and go back to sleep.

 

She arched her back in a stretch but froze when her butt backed into something that met her with an appreciative moan. Her eyes shot open despite her headache and she looked over her shoulder in shock. Sandor was laying in bed next to her looking at her with heavy lidded eyes. He wasn't wearing a shirt and since the blankets were covering him from the waist down, she wasn’t sure if he was wearing pants or not. She quickly checked to make sure she was wearing clothes and was relieved to find she was wearing a pair of her new underwear, though she wasn’t sure why she had chosen this particular pair. They were lacy boyshorts but at least it was something. She was also wearing a t-shirt, but she noticed she wasn't wearing a bra.

 

_No. We didn’t._

 

She was sure her heart stopped when Sandor wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into him. His hand was tucked underneath her side and was one small movement away from cupping her breast. She shuddered as the thought made her nipples tingle and stiffen.

 

“Good morning, little bird,” he growled a bit too seductively into her ear before he gave the lobe a small bite, making her jump.

 

“Good morning,” she barely whispered. She still couldn’t wrap her head around what was happening. There was only one reason he would be acting like this but the night before was a blur. She was going to have to ask. “Did we...”

 

“You don't remember?” he said as he pushed his pelvis into her backside. Her eyes widened as she felt that he was hard.

 

_You lost your virginity to The Hound._

 

“It was amazing,” he murmured into her hair. “Are you ok, little bird?”

 

She was shocked and a little ashamed to find that it was ok. She didn't feel regret or disappointed, she just felt awkward. How was she supposed to act now?

 

“I'm fine. I- uh- I have a bad headache.”

 

“You did drink quite a bit.”

 

She gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah.”

 

“So you don’t remember anything?”

 

“I- I remember cleaning your leg, but nothing after that,” she felt the need to apologize for allowing herself to get so drunk. She didn’t think she had ever been that drunk. “I'm really sorry. For anything that was... inappropriate.”

 

“Almost as sorry as I am for making you think that we had sex,” he said as he smiled into the kiss he placed on her neck.

 

_What?_

 

She jerked away from him but he didn’t try to hold onto her. She bolted upright to sit and glare down at him. “We didn't... you know?”

 

He was suppressing a smile with trained diligence but he couldn't keep the amusement out of his eyes. “No, we didn't. Are you that disappointed?”

 

_Yeah, I actually am._

 

“No! I'm not disappointed! You are repulsive!” She had to hide a smile of her own.

 

“Hey,” he said sitting up beside her. “Repulsive would have been taking advantage of the drunk chick trying her best to hit on you.”

 

“I didn't-”

 

“Don't even try to deny it as if your memory is somehow clearer than mine.”

 

“You were drinking too. I remember _that_ just fine.”

 

He stood up and stretched his arms behind his tossed back head. “Yeah, but I always drink,” he groaned.

 

Sansa had to remind herself to breathe as she watched his muscles ripple through the stretch. The tattoos on his back were undulating on top of the planes of his shoulders and she suddenly wanted to be pressed into the hard warmth of his body again. Her hypnosis was broken when he bent down to pick a shirt out of his bag. He pulled it over his head and shook his hair out over his face.

 

“Come on. Let's get you re-hydrated and fed. That will help the headache. We can get some Tylenol at a gas station. I'm all too familiar with hangovers, little bird.”

 

“No,” she said as she wrapped tightly into the covers and tried to disappear. She sounded like a little kid who didn’t want to eat their vegetables.

 

“Then get your pretty little ass.” he ripped away the cover so quickly that she didn’t have time to try to hold on. “Out of bed anyway, because I am hungry and I am thirsty as fuck but I’m not the one with the headache.”

 

Sansa stared at him for a moment before he rolled his eyes and leaned across the bed to grab her. She squealed and tried to crawl away but he was on top of her before she could get down off the bed. He flipped her over onto her back and she found herself looking up at him kneeling between her spread legs. She realized she was breathing a lot heavier than was necessary for the amount of energy she had just spent but his hand was still on her thigh; his fingers twitching. She looked him in the eyes and saw that dark look again but this time it felt different and she suddenly understood why as his gaze fell over her body splayed out beneath him. It was still dangerous and she still felt like hunted prey, but it was different this time because she liked it. Any hint of a smile was gone from his face as his eyes took her in. She blushed when they lingered between her legs, a blush that only deepened when she remembered that the panties were see through. Being so openly examined made her body tingle and she felt a surge of moisture come from the spot he was staring at. She felt the smooth skin on the inside of her leg twitch. He suddenly looked back up to her face, his stormy grey eyes slightly narrowed.

 

_He noticed you getting wet. He wants you._

 

The hand that was still on her leg started to move and his eyes followed it. She couldn’t explain why, but she wanted him to touch her. His calloused fingers moved up her leg and she suddenly and involuntarily arched her back to deepen the pressure of his touch on her quivering body. He responded by dropping down over her on one hand and grabbing the soft flesh of her butt with the other. He stared into her eyes intensely and she felt her lips part as she took a deep breath. A small whimper escaped her mouth as he kept kneading his rough hands along her hips. She let her eyes flutter closed so she could enjoy the sensation of his hands exploring her body. She wanted more and couldn’t stop the moan that came from her. He groaned low in his chest and pressed an open mouthed kiss onto her parted lips. His tongue met hers and flicked along the tip playfully until she sighed out a breath of air she didn’t know she had been holding in. He nibbled on her lower lip lightly and she felt the surge of moisture between her legs again. She bucked her hips up into him, desperate for some friction where she was now aching so badly, and suddenly, his warmth was gone.

 

_Don't stop._

 

She opened her eyes and saw him getting off the bed. He ran a hand over his face as she raised up on her elbows. He paced back and forward at the end of the bed a few times before he mumbled something that sounded like “Get dressed” with a huff.

 

“Did I do something wrong?” she said in a quiet shy voice. She didn’t really want to have sex with him but she had been enjoying the touching.

 

_You do want to have sex with him._

 

He snorted and went to walk out of the room but paused to slam his fist into the wall beside the door. It went right through the drywall and left a huge hole.

 

He slammed the door behind him and Sansa felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes. She couldn’t understand the rejection she was now caving under.

 

She clearly didn’t understand this man at all. Why would she? She didn’t know him.

 

She fought off the worst of the tears and pulled on some jeans. She didn’t care enough to put on a bra.

 

_You just want him to look at you again._

 

She grabbed the rest of her things out of the shower and went outside to Sandor's car. He was already on the drivers side of the bench seat when she slipped in silently beside him. His face was blank  but his knuckles were white from the death grip he had on the steering wheel. “Let's go. I'm fucking starving.”

 

He pulled into the parking lot of an Ihop and looked over at her. It had cost him dearly to refuse her; she could see it all over his face. He was having to exercise extreme restraint to not take her in the front seat in the parking lot. If it was so difficult, then why did he bother to refuse her at all?

 

“I'm sorry for-” She started but the incredulous look on his face made her stop. “What?”

 

“You are _sorry_?”

 

“Yeah, sorry.” She didn't know exactly what for but she still felt like she should apologize.

 

“Look little bird, there is nothing to be sorry about.”

 

“But you got so mad at me when we kissed.” Talking about it was embarrassing.

 

He barked a bitter laugh and shook his head. “Sansa, I wasn't mad at you. If you were an ugly guy with a beautiful girl throwing herself at you and you didn't have a condom, you would be pissed off too. If I had paid better attention in high school health class then you would still be on your back at the hotel. Get out, I'm hungry.”

 

She stammered as she struggled for some way to respond. Clearly, he wasn’t embarrassed by talking about it. He opened the door and got out to go into the diner so she followed him. She trotted up to him and looped her arm through his as they walked into the warm restaurant.

 

“Table for two?” the bubbly hostess asked Sansa.  “We have a couple of lovebird specials going on today!”

 

Sansa felt him tense against her and jumped in before he strangled the poor girl. “Yes, thanks! That would be great, wouldn’t it be teddy bear?” she said as she snuggled into Sandor's side and beamed up at him. He looked down at her like she had just sprouted another head. “It's our anniversary today too,” she added with a wink to the amused hostess.

 

“Well, isn’t that special?” the girl said as she put their name down on the waiting list.

 

They moved off to the side as they waited to be called for their table. Sandor had taken up his usual scowl instead of horrified shock. “Teddy bear?”

 

“What? You are just like a big teddy bear. Cute, but not unwilling to rip something apart the minute it gets near you.”

 

Sandor snorted. “I've never been called cute before.”

 

“I've never been to an Ihop before for my anniversary.”

 

“I would take you some place much nicer. Thanks for making me look cheap to the girl at the hostess stand. I was going to ask for her number.”

 

Sansa knew it was a joke.

 

_So why did it make you so jealous?_

 

The hostess called their false name and showed them to their table. Sansa found herself scrutinizing everything about her as she followed closely behind her.

 

Sandor sat down and Sansa sat across from him. She noticed he was looking at her differently than he had before. He was relaxed and had an easy grace about him that she hadn't noticed before. He was appraising her from across the table with a cocky look on his face.

 

She felt herself blush. “What?”

 

“How's your headache?”

 

It hurt like hell. “It's starting to go away.”

 

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a packet of Tylenol and tossed it onto the table. “Drink lots of water and take those. At least I'm prepared for something, right?”

 

She felt herself smile as she reached for the pain medicine.

 

 

 

 

 


	25. No More Mixed Signals

Xxv. Sandor

 

The shower sex with his fucking hand continued throughout the week. Sansa had been overly flirtatious  and more than comfortable prancing around him half naked in cute little lacy panties and bras.

 

_Why had she bought such sexy underwear?_

 

One evening she had left the door to the bathroom cracked and the sight of her coming out of the shower naked and wet had left him more than a little worked up. She knew what she was doing and if she continued to push her boundaries she was going to find herself fucked. Literally. She was gorgeous and wanted to see what she could use that for on a grown man. He had somehow become her little play thing.

 

They hadn’t touched each other since the morning they went to Ihop. Sandor had been trying to keep himself in control of the situation since he had almost taken her on the crappy hotel bed that morning. She was sober and herself and she had been wet for him. Her pink opening had been shining with a slickness he would have given anything to feel against his cock. He remembered all too vividly the thin sheer strip of fabric of her lacy panties as she let her legs lie open for him. She could have closed them. He was kneeling between them but she could have easily moved away and kept him from looking.

 

He didn’t know if he wanted her to stop testing him or not. He certainly didn’t mind looking but sooner or later looking was not going to be enough.

 

_It already isn't and you fucking well know it._

 

He would just have to stop giving her the opportunity to mess with his head. And his balls. Jacking off in the shower really sucked. He hadn’t gotten laid in a long time and that had pretty much been fine until this she-devil had popped out of fucking nowhere and reminded him he had a fully functional dick.

 

If he had had a condom that morning, this wouldn’t be an issue. He had been serious when he told her that that was all that was keeping him from railing into her. The scandalized look on her face and been highly enjoyable.

 

He still hadn’t bought any, though

 

His little prank on her when she thought that they had had sex had been amusing but it had also been informative. She had not reacted the way he had expected. He was sure she was going to smack him and not talk to him for the rest of the day. Despite what she had said, he'd be damned if she didn’t seem a little disappointed when she found out that they had not had sex.

 

_And she stared at you while you got dressed._

 

When he stopped for gas that afternoon, he decided there was something else he could try. Just to see what her reaction was. If she wanted to push boundaries, he was willing to step over a few lines too. He picked up everything he needed from inside the store and came back out to pump the gas. He grabbed the Coke and bag of Chex Mix out of the bag and handed them to Sansa.

 

“Thank you, Sandor,” she said up to him with her prettiest smile.

 

As the gas was pumping, he unlocked the trunk and put the remaining contents of the bag into his duffel bag. If he was going to treat her like the lab rat she was treating him like, then tonight would be his last chance.

 

They would be at Winterfell tomorrow. She would be home and with what was left of her family. He would be completely forgotten and free to go about his life.

 

_That is what you have wanted, right?_

 

“All set?” he asked as he dropped down into his seat and shut the door. He reached over and shoved his hand into the opened bag of Chex Mix she was munching on.

 

“Sure. Hey, get your own,” she said as she tried to give him her meanest face. It was fucking adorable. He shoveled the salty snack into his mouth and crunched loudly. She handed him her Coke and he took it to unscrew the cap and take a drink.

 

He suddenly wondered when they became the type of people that shared a drink.

 

He swallowed and smacked his lips; she hated that. “You are almost home, little bird. We will be there by tomorrow,” he said as he pulled away from the pump.

 

“I know. I'm really excited.” If she was so excited, then why did she look so sad?

 

_She is still grieving for her brother._

 

“But it wouldn't be the same without your brother though, right?”

 

She looked at him and shook her head. “Yeah, I miss Theon, and I hate how I left things with him.” She let the tears roll silently down her cheeks.

 

“Did you have a fight or something? Did he put gum in your Barbie's hair?”

 

She gave a small sardonic grin. “No. He wasn't really my brother. He was adopted. I think,” she paused, suddenly shy  about what she was saying. “I think he was in love with me. He was going to kiss me at Gendry's house but Jon and Ygritte walked in. He died for me.”

 

The tears were falling freely and she was sniffling but she wasn't sobbing. This kind of crying was worse. A lot worse. She just seemed broken now, like nothing was really worth getting truly upset over enough to sob anymore. He felt a tightness in his chest that actually hurt. That must be how it feels to her.

 

 _She doesn’t want to talk to you about him._ _Did she love him too?_ The thought made him jealous.

 

“I thought that Ygritte girl was with Robb.” Anything to change the subject. “The Targaryen kid has his hands full.”

 

“No. Robb has a fiance. Jeyne Westerling. She is my best friend. I wonder were she is.”

 

This conversation had passed out of his realm of comfort so he left Sansa to her thoughts and drove in silence until she was asleep and he was falling asleep. It was still so early he tried forcing himself to keep driving but eventually after he felt his eyes drift shut, he pulled over and found a hotel.

 

This last night, he would get them a decent room. Something with a big bed and big bathtub for her to soak in. He would sleep on the couch. They were in a bigger city this time so there were swankier digs to choose from. He walked into the lobby and got a room from the concierge and then went back out to get Sansa.

 

“Little bird. Wake up. Let's go upstairs and get you in a real bed.”

 

She stirred but didn't truly wake up.

 

He walked around to her side of the car and scooped her up to carry her inside. She snuggled into him as he handed the bellhop the keys to his car. “Bring up the bags in the trunk. Room 408.”

 

“Yes sir!”

 

_Sir. Little overenthusiastic shit._

 

He rode the elevator up to their room and slid the card key awkwardly into the slot. He tried his best not to jostle Sansa but she woke as he walked her through the door.

 

“Oh!” she gasped looking around. “Are we staying here tonight?”

 

He put her on her feet and shrugged out of his jacket. “I was tired of the shit holes you were picking out.”

 

She slapped his arm playfully with a beaming smile and went to look around the suite. The smile had been worth all of it. A knock on the door broke him from his relaxed state and he tensed. He looked through the peephole and saw the scrawny bellhop with their bags.

 

_You are too paranoid._

 

He opened the door and snatched the bags from the kid before he could come into the room and slapped a ten into his hand.

 

“Who was that?” Sansa asked coming out of the bedroom.

 

“Bellhop,” he said as he held up their bags. 

 

“I'll take them into the bedroom,” she said as she bounced happily over to get their things. “Did you see the size of that bathtub?” she said, her eyes growing wide.

 

“Will it hold me?” he called to her as she made her way into the bedroom. He followed her to check out the bathtub. He wasn't a bath kind of guy but he had to admit that having a long soak would feel pretty good. Driving non-stop and sleeping on the floor the past week had left his muscles stiff.

 

She dropped the bags on the bed and grabbed his hand to drag him into the bathroom. “How awesome is that?” she said as she gestured to the huge bathtub. He would be able to lie down comfortably in it.

 

“You go first, little bird. I'll order up some food. What do you want?”

 

“Can I have some champagne?” she asked with her most persuasive smile.

 

He gave a huff of laughter. “Sure, but what kind of _food_?”

 

“Some kind of pasta. I trust you.” She turned on the bath water and let it run hot before she closed the drain and let it fill up. “Ooh! Bubbles!” she squealed as she observed a selection of miniature bottles on the counter. She picked one up and smelled it. “Pears! My favorite,” as she relished in the sweet clean scent. She poured it in the bathtub and the smell of pears filled the room as the water began to foam. Without a bat of an eyelash, she started to unbutton her jeans and shrug out of them. Sandor turned around quickly and shut the door tightly behind him.

 

_She-devil._

 

He sat down on the bed and started to look through the room service menu. He clicked on the TV and scanned for something to watch. There wasn't really anything he cared about on. He was just about to give up and order their food when he ran across a channel showing a graphic porn scene. He stopped suddenly and willed himself to turn it off, but found he couldn't. He felt the blood rush to his groin and cause his cock to slowly stiffen. He pulled at the seam of his jeans to help relieve the pressure his now hard cock was under.

 

_She's in the bathtub. You could take care of this pretty quickly and she wouldn’t know._

 

He unzipped his pants and took his thick shaft in his hand. He watched the couple on the TV as they thrust into each other but his imagination was quickly wandering as his thumb slid over the pearly liquid on the tip of his painfully hard member. From the bathroom, she sounds of Sansa singing some song floated out to him and he forgot what was on TV.

 

_Sansa...._

 

He closed his eyes and listened to her sing as he stroked himself with long tight pulls. He felt his body begin to tighten and the beginnings of his climax start to take him when he noticed that the singing had stopped.

 

_Had he said her name out loud?_

 

“Sandor?” she called from the bathroom.

 

He jerked from out of his fantasy and cleared his throat. “What, girl?” he called back a bit too harshly.

 

“Did you say something?”

 

_Fuck, he had said it out loud._

 

“No, I was just ordering the food. Pasta, right?”

 

“Yes, please. Thank you, Sandor!”

 

He stuffed himself back into his jeans and snatched up the phone on the table by the bed. He ordered them some food and her bottle of champagne as he went to raid the mini-bar. He heard the water drain and a few minutes later, Sansa was coming out of the bathroom in nothing but a goddamn towel.

 

“I was so excited I forgot to grab my clothes,” she said blushing brightly.

 

He snatched up a few miniature bottles of bourbon, gin, vodka and who knew what else and went into the bathroom to run a bath for himself.  He filled the tub up with scalding hot water and sank down to relax as he tipped back a bottle of whatever. He didn't even care at that point. He closed his eyes and drank another bottle of something as he laid back to rest his head on the edge of the tub. The hot water and the booze soothed his stiff muscles and made him feel drowsy.

 

He must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes, the water was luke warm and there was a  small tapping sound on the bathroom door.

 

“Sandor? Are you ok?”

 

“Sure, what is it?” he grunted back to her.

 

“Room-service is here. I don’t have any money to give them.”

 

“Just get it out of by duffel bag. I'll be out in a minute.” He stood up out of the water, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, not even bothering to dry himself off. He realized that he hadn’t grabbed any of his clothes either.

 

_See how she likes it..._

 

He stepped out of the bathroom and crossed over to the bed where his bag was laying open next to Sansa. She had already popped the cork on the champagne bottle and was sipping happily watching some show on TV. The money was at the bottom underneath his clothes and on top of his clothes was the box of condoms he had bought earlier at the gas station. A devious smirk tugged at his lips as he dug some clothes out of the bag. No way she had missed them. They were right on top staring him in the face.

 

_Why didn’t she look uncomfortable or something?_

 

In fact, she looked pretty relaxed. A bit too fucking relaxed. Again, she was only in a t-shirt and panties, not even a bra, and was sitting indian style against the headboard. The only thing keeping him from staring at her cunt again was the bottle of champagne nestled between her legs. He noticed as he broke his gaze away from her long smooth legs that she was appraising him with equal interest. Her eyes were not on his face but following the lines of the muscles contouring over his hip bones and down into the towel.

 

_I should drop this fucking thing right now._

 

“Hi,” she said looking away from his body and up into his face. She was smiling sweetly and not gawking at the scars covering most of his body. He could kiss her.

 

“Champagne?” she offered, holding up another flute she had already poured.

 

“None for me. I have a minibar to wipe clean,” he said as he grabbed a shirt and some boxer briefs out of his bag causing the box of condoms to fall out and onto the bed between them. She looked down at them and blushed. And she actually smiled. It was faint and it disappeared quickly as she sipped at the wine in her flute but she had smiled at the implication falling heavily on the bed between them. She looked up at him shyly through her eyelashes and smiled as she bit at the rim of her glass.

 

These were not mixed signals. This was a clear fuck-me-like-you-mean-it look. She was leaving this offer floating in the charged air between them and he couldn't move a muscle.

 

_Fine. You asked for it._


	26. A Soft Spot for Broken Things

Xxvi. Tyrion

 

This was potentially one of the worst ideas he had ever had. Knocking on The Hound's hotel door might just get him killed but he had to say something. He couldn’t let his sister get away with this. She was such an evil cunt and nothing would give him more pleasure than throwing the proverbial wrench in her gears.

 

_What if I'm interrupting something?_

 

Sansa had been fast asleep in Clegane's arms, nestling up happy as you please, when he had seen them go upstairs. Tyrion had long since established that this was not a forced partnership. Clegane had treated Sansa with more tenderness than Tyrion would have ever given him credit for and Sansa relished in it.

 

She didn't need saving from Sandor like Tyrion had originally thought, but they both needed saving from Cersei. Tyrion was not normally the type of person to get involved in things that did not directly concern him. His stature  and his brother Jaime kept him from being delusional about being anyone’s knight in shining armor. His brother cast a big shadow. He knew he was no ones hero and it had led to general apathy for pretty much everything.

 

The sight of Clegane and Sansa in the Ihop about a week ago had changed his resolve. He had decided to leave them alone and to their fate since Sansa clearly wanted to be there when he had noticed something. It was something worth saving. Against all odds, they had, somewhere along the short way, fallen in love with each other.

 

_Like Tysha and me._

 

He steeled himself, wishing that Bronn was not recovering from surgery on the other side of the country, and knocked on the door. He waited a few moments and knocked again, every bit of bravery leaking out of him as the seconds passed. After a few seconds and an almost irresistible urge to run away, he heard fast and heavy footsteps coming to the door.

 

“Put some clothes on,” Clegane barked on the other side of the door.

 

_Oh great. Maybe if I play dead, he won't hurt me too much._

 

The door was wrenched open so hard, Tyrion feared for the hinges and The Hound's twisted snarling face went from angry to shocked as he looked down at Tyrion.

 

“Now, I know I’m not the first person you wanted to-” he started before Clegane looked both ways down the hallway, reached out to snatch him up by the front of his shirt and yank him into the room, slamming the door behind them.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Imp?” he snarled down into Tyrion's face. Tyrion could smell the alcohol on his breath. “How did you find me?” he roared.

 

“Sandor, what's going... Tyrion?” Sansa had come around the corner out of the bedroom and was still buttoning her jeans when she looked in horror at him crumpled in Clegane's fist. His fist was almost as big as Tyrion's entire head.

 

“I know that neither of you would ever want to see me, of all people, here in your lovely hotel room while you were-” Tyrion faltered as The Hound shook him.

 

“I dare you to finish that sentence,” he whispered menacingly.

 

“Sandor! Don't hurt him!”

 

“Don't _hurt_ him?”

 

“I have something you might be interested in hearing if your were still heading north to Winterfell.” Neither of them seemed to be paying him any attention.

 

“He's a fucking _Lannister_ , Sansa! You know, the ones trying to hunt you down and kill you?”

 

“Why would they send-” she cut herself off as she realized what she was about to say. _A Dwarf._

 

Her manners far exceeded Cleagne's however. “You think he is alone? What the fuck could this little imp do against me?”

 

“I am quite alone,” Tyrion corrected as Sandor dropped the grasp he had on Tyrion's shirt. He smoothed himself out and continued. “Well, except for my driver, but he is downstairs in the car and unfortunately for me, quite unaware of what I'm up to.”

 

“We should hear him out, don't you think?” Sansa said moving over to Clegane and looping her arm around his. The gesture was not missed by Tyrion.

 

Sandor looked down at Sansa and his scowl immediately softened for a fraction of a second. “Fine,” he said softly. When he turned to glare at Tyrion again, all of the rage was back instantly. “But if I hear one word I don’t like...”

 

 _It's like watching a bipolar wolfhound._ _It doesn’t know if it wants it's belly scratched or if it wants to rips something's throat open._

 

He let the threat hang in the air. Tyrion didn’t need him to elaborate anyway. He was quite imaginative on his own.

 

“Tyrion, please have a seat. Would you like something to drink?” Sansa asked him gently.

 

“Sansa!” protested Clegane incredulously. 

 

“Miss. Stark, always the gracious little lady,” Tyrion said to her as he took her hand and gave it a chaste kiss on the knuckles. “Thank you my dear, I am quite thirsty.”

 

“We have a bottle of champagne,” she offered courteously.

 

“Fantastic!” he said as Sandor groaned.

 

“Sansa, go back to bed, eat your pasta. Please, just let me handle this,” Clegane said to her with an exasperated look on his face.

 

Sansa narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine, but only because I _am_ really hungry.”

 

“I surely didn't mean to interrupt anything.” The murderous look Clegane shot him told him that the implication was not missed.

 

“No,” Sansa said as she averted her eyes and blushed. She was clearly lying. Sandor rolled his eyes and backed Sansa gently into the bedroom. He shut the doors quickly before she could protest and shoved the back of a chair under the handles. A few seconds later, she was pounding on the door with her tiny fists and calling through the doors.

 

Sandor ignored her and sat down opposite to Tyrion. “So what are you so desperate to tell us. Make it fast.”

 

“Fine. I wasn't expecting a pleasant welcome from you anyway, where is that champagne?”

 

Sandor huffed, stomped over to the minibar and snatched something up with out looking at it. “Here,” he said slamming it down on the table between them.

 

“Nice, Glenlivet. You didn’t have to waste a fine scotch on-”

 

“Get to the goddamn point, Imp! Why the fuck are you here? Why are you following us?”

 

“Fine. Don't take Sansa to Winterfell.” Judging by the look on Sandor's face, the thought had previously occurred to him.

 

“Why?”

 

“Where is Cersei going to look first for Sansa?”

 

“Cersei is at Winterfell?”

 

“God no! But she will have a welcoming party for you.”

 

“Who?”

 

“That, I don’t know.”

 

“How did you hear about this?”

 

“I overheard her talking to someone on the phone while Jaime and I were over there one day.”

 

“So, it isn’t Jaime Lannister waiting on us?”

 

“No, my brother has other things going on with our father. Cersei and Jaime were told to leave Sansa alone.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“I don’t know that either.”

 

“Why are you telling me this? Is this some clever little trick?”

 

“If I wanted you to go to Winterfell then why wouldn’t I just let you go by yourself? You are almost there.”

 

“What do you gain from this?”

 

“I have a soft spot for broken things. Sansa has surely been broken by the past couple of week's events. I don’t wish the poor girl anymore harm than she has already endured.”

 

“I've taken care of Sansa just fine, so if you are trying to imply that I have caused her harm in anyway-”

 

“I did not mean to offend you in anyway.  The girl is clearly well cared for. Excellent job, Clegane.”

 

“I didn't do it for you.”

 

“Of course not. I was only referring to the death of her brothers, both natural and adopted on top of the tragic death of her fath-”

 

“Shh!”Sandor hissed at Tyrion. “Sansa, doesn't know about her father. And what do you mean 'both brothers?'”

 

“Robb was injured at the party and was admitted to the hospital. He didn't make it.”

 

Sandor nodded and looked slightly pained. Tyrion knew he wasn't sad for Robb or Ned Stark. He was sad for Sansa.

 

“Look imp,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t trust any of the Lannisters anymore or this story that you are trying to get me to swallow. You can come with us to Winterfell tomorrow. If your cunt of a sister has any grand ideas about doing something shady then I’ll have you as a nice little bargaining chip.”

 

“I suppose I don’t have a choice.”

 

“Not if you value your life.”

 

“Clegane, I suspect that I’m a dead man either way.”

 

That night, Tyrion laid tied to the couch trying to get some sleep. The tying up had been superfluous; he didn't want The Hound pissed off at him anymore than he already was. Clegane was in the bedroom with Sansa with the door shut. He strained his ears to hear the conversation between Sandor and Sansa but mostly all he heard was crying, hushed whispers and gentle shushing from Sandor. It was an intimate collection of sounds that made Tyrion feel like an intruder. He would be more comfortable listening to them fucking but judging by the sobs emanating from behind the door, there was no chance of that happening.

 

Sandor had finally told Sansa about her father and brother.


	27. And Now My Watch Has Ended

Xxvii. Jon

 

Winterfell was were Jon, Theon and the Stark children had grown up. It was Ned and Catelyn's mansion in upstate New York and it had been the ideal place to grow up. Secluded by miles of forest, it had been a little boy's playground. There had always been something to hunt or horses to ride. Arya had always particularly enjoyed visiting the stables when Jon was tending a lathered horse. He taught her how to shoot a gun and ride a horse in those woods. She had always been a hopeless tomboy. Neither Robb nor Theon would humor her when she was wanting to tag along on one of their adventures, but Jon had.

 

Sansa, on the other hand, had always dreamed of leaving the country and go to some big city. Somewhere that cared about how you dressed and what your hair looked like. Somewhere warm and tropical. She had moved to Los Angeles as soon as she could. He had never been very close to Sansa. Not for a lack of love but because there had never been anything for them to bond over.

 

Bran and Rickon would run through the woods and climb trees. Catelyn was always chasing after Bran to stop climbing.

 

Jon had played knights with Robb and Theon here. They would get sticks from the woods and sword fight until Catelyn called them in for dinner. They had fished in the river that you could hear but not see from the front porch.

 

Life had always been perfect here.

 

_How was he caught in this nightmare he now found himself in?_

 

Ygritte shouted at him in his ear, “What the fuck are you doing?!”

 

A bullet shattered splinters of wood next to his ear and he felt a trickle of something hot run down his neck. He shook the long dead memories from his mind and got down behind Robb's car that he had parked in the drieway of Winterfell. They hadn’t even made it to the front door when someone opened fire on them. Someone was shooting at him from inside the house.

 

He reached up to feel his neck and smeared the sticky blood around on his fingertips. He cocked his head to the side as if to ask Ygritte how bad it was.

 

“They just knicked you, right below your ear, what do you have on you?” she asked.

 

“Robb kept a 9mm under the driver's seat but I don’t know if it's still there. Other than that, I just have my 9.” Jon was a good shot but he wasn't sure about Ygritte.

 

He had to find a way to get inside the house. What if Catelyn was in there or the boys? He had take out whoever this asshole was that thought they could come into his childhood home and fuck up everything he had once thought pristine and untouched by the evil of the world. He had to sneak around and get in there unnoticed.

 

_That's assuming there is only one guy._

 

Jon was on his home turf so that was an advantage but he was on the offensive. Getting into that house without being noticed by however many people were waiting on him was going to be more than a little tricky. He opened the driver's side door and felt around under the seat  for Robb's gun. He found it plus two extra clips.

 

He gave the gun and a clip to Ygritte. “Here. Just in case.”

 

“Where do you think you are going?” she said as she took it, pushed the clip in and loaded a bullet into the chamber expertly. He looked at her as he furrowed his brow.

 

“I have to get in there. What if they have some of my family?”

 

Jon couldn't leave Bran or Rickon or Catelyn to chance. He had to make sure. Ygritte looked at him despairingly. She knew there was nothing she could do to keep him from going in there. She pulled him in tightly for a passionate kiss.

 

_She doesn't know if I'm coming back._

 

“You are a fool, Jon.”

 

“Pop off a few rounds as I make my way around the garage. Keep his focus out here, but stay the fuck down. Stay here.”

 

She nodded as he slinked his way along the body of the BMW. He nodded his head back to Ygritte and she shot a few rounds towards the door, shattering the windows flanking it as he hurried to the side of the garage, out of the way of the front window.

 

She was a better shot than he would have thought.

 

She was answered by a few bullets bouncing into the body of Robb's car and shattering the windows.

 

He turned to check on her but she just shook the broken glass out of her hair and gave him a smile and a thumbs up. He gave her a thumbs up back and blew her a kiss. She pretended to catch it and put it in the pocket of her flannel shirt.

 

He stood up and continued along the length of the house, his gun in his right hand with his finger poised on the trigger guard. He couldn’t be too jumpy. He couldn’t risk hitting any of his family that happened to be in the house. He turned the corner into the back yard and into a niche in the brick walls. There were windows on both sides of him but he quickly kicked open the crawlspace access and ducked in as her heard Ygritte and the unknown trigger happy asshole in the house exchange more fire.

 

He crawled through the cob webs and dirt, keeping his head low. He didn't dare bump his head or shoulders on a cross beam. It would surely give him away. He crawled towards the front door, listening for sounds of people above him. He needed to know how many were in the house.

 

_The set by the front door is a huge motherfucker._

 

The floorboards beneath the monsters feet squeaked with every slight shift in weight.

 

He heard the smaller set pacing in the back of the house towards the kitchen and he crawled as quickly as he could towards them. The going was slow when he was basically crawling on his elbows. He couldn’t let Ygritte run out of bullets; she was already on her second clip, but giving her her credit she was using them sparingly.

 

The smaller set of footsteps in the kitchen definitely belonged to someone smaller. Maybe a small man or young boy. Maybe even a woman. He froze right beneath them and heard one end of a hurried conversation above him.

 

“It's not The Hound. It's that Targaryen boy.”

 

Pause.

 

“Yes, Sansa is with him.”

 

Pause.

 

“Gregor is the one shooting. Not me.”

 

Pause.

 

“I know you want Sansa alive. I want Sansa alive too. What about the Targaryen boy?”

 

Pause.

 

“He will enjoy that. I'll let you know when we are on our way.” The footsteps started towards the front door. “Gregor! We need the Stark girl alive. Do what you want with the Targaryen boy.”

 

There was a vague grunt and the heavy lumbering footsteps moved towards the backdoor. Jon crawled as fast as he could to the secret place in Theon's old closet. Jon, Robb and Theon had made an escape hatch when they were kids to get out of the house when they were in trouble or grounded. They had slipped out through the trap door on many occasions.

 

He heard the Gregor Clegane stomp to the back door and out down the steps. He had to hurry. He heard shots resonate from outside and a roar of fury. She had hit him but it couldn’t have been too serious because he heard Ygritte squeal as Gregor reached her.

 

She had run out of bullets.

 

Gregor strode up the front steps and burst through the front door. “Here!” Gregor shouted through the house. “Your Stark bitch shot me in the fucking shoulder!”

 

Jon felt the tears prickle his eyes as the dark crawlspace blurred around him.

 

_When they find out she isn't Sansa...._

 

The light footsteps made their way to the sounds of Ygritte struggling to get free.

 

“That's not Sansa, you oaf! Who in God's name is this?”

 

“It's the redhead from the driveway!” Gregor roared.

 

He heard him drop Ygritte on the floor. The following crash mixed with the sound of crunching bone and a cry of pain from Ygritte turned Jon's stomach. He crawled as fast as he could towards Theon's closet.

 

“If Cersei is given the wrong girl again, we are all dead. Get rid of her,” came the voice belonging to the small set of footsteps.

 

He was almost there. He could see the cracks of light from the edges of the trapdoor.

 

The finality of another muffled shot and the drop of a body sent Jon's heart into his stomach.

 

_No. No. No._

 

He crawled the remaining few feet to the secret door in Theon's old closet and pushed it up. There was a good bit of resistance from whatever was piled on top of it but he put his shoulder into it hand stood up straight. He knew he had made a terrible amount of noise but he didn’t care.

 

He had to find Ygritte.

 

He struggled up out of the clutter that had been on the floor of Theon's closet when he heard the long thundering strides of Gregor coming towards the clamor of noise he had just made. Gregor burst through the door as Jon struggled up through all of Theon's childhood relics and crossed the room in three long strides, grabbing Jon by his long hair.

 

_Damnit Theon. I'm going to die because you are a pack rat. And because I refused to cut my hair._

 

Gregor yanked him up through the hole in the floor as Jon placed the muzzle of his pistol against Gregor's chest. He squeezed the trigger but Gregor kept pulling him. He felt some of his hair release painfully from his scalp. He popped off three more rounds and was rewarded by only a few grunts and more fury.

 

_This son of a bitch either isn't human or has fucking Kevlar on._

 

Gregor wrenched the gun from his grasp, breaking his wrist as Jon struggled against him. He kicked and reached for the knife in his back pocket. His kick connected with Gregor's kneecap and the huge monster collapsed onto one knee. Jon pulled his knife and aimed for Gregor's face, but The Mountain batted at it with a ham sized fist. Jon caught him through the palm of his hand causing Gregor to howl in pain. When he reeled his hand back, Jon lost his knife and his last weapon.

 

Gregor stood up as Jon readied for more fight. The Mountain of a man looked down at Jon and smiled evilly at him as he pulled the knife slowly out of his hand. This guy was tougher than any guy he had ever fought before. Gregor threw the knife into the corner of the room behind him and came at him. Jon ducked low and threw his shoulder into Gregor's groin. Gregor barely seemed to notice and grabbed him by the hair again to hold him up to face him. Jon winced against the pain as he felt his toes leave the ground. He clawed at Gregor's arms which were the size of small trees but came away with only bloody fingernails.

 

The Mountain smiled at his feeble attempts again and delivered a back handed blow to Jon's face.

 

Instantly, Jon saw the edges of his vision fade to black and tasted the rusted taste of blood. Something in his cheek had caved in on itself and Jon went limp but not completely unconscious.

 

He felt Gregor drag him through the house and tried to find his feet under him to help alleviate the pressure of Gregor's fists in his hair, but they kept slipping. Gregor stopped and hit him again.

 

Everything went black.

 

 

When Jon woke up, he had to remind himself where he was. He was in his happy childhood home in a pool of his own blood. It was still hot against his broken cheek. He opened the eye that wasn’t swollen shut and was looking Ygritte in the face. Her eyes were closed because she was dead, a large bullet wound on the side of her head still leaking the life out of her.

 

_I’ve only been unconscious for a few seconds._

 

Jon felt himself wretch and want to cry and kill something all at once. He lifted himself slowly onto his hands but fell onto the one when his right wrist caved on him. It was the one Gregor had broken.

 

“You don’t know when to stay down, do you boy?” Gregor hissed down into his ear. A moment later he felt a blow in his side from an abnormally large boot that he knew instantly had shattered a couple of ribs. The wind rushed out of him and he gasped for air as he tried to crawl towards the front door that was still open. Everything was blurry from his tears of grief and pain and all he saw was a shadow pass across the beam of light coming from the open front door.

 

_Who closed the door?_

 

Gregor snatched him up by the hair and he felt cold metal bite into his throat when he heard Gregor roar beside his ear, “And just what the fuck do you think you are doing here?”

 

Jon struggled feebly, feeling the breaths coming harder and shallower.

 

“Hold still, Jon,” came a raspy voice from the direction of the doorway.

 

_Who was that?_

 

Gregor's booming laugh came beside his ear, “What could you possibly-” His voice was cut off by  loud crack of a gunshot. Jon felt a hot spray of something hit his neck and he was sure he was shot.

 

The grasp on his hair loosened and the cutting under his jaw went away. Gregor fell away from behind him and Jon went down with him.

 

He couldn't suck in a good breath and everything was going black again.

 

“Jon!” His voice came from far away and he could have sworn it was Arya's voice, but it couldn’t have been her. She was safe in Riverrun with Edmure. “Jon!” It came to him again but it was closer.

 

Suddenly her face was floating above him in the haze. She was shouting at him by the way her lips were moving but he couldn't hear her anymore.

 

_I must be dreaming. I must be dying._

 

Suddenly, her face was gone and Sandor Clegane's scarred and twisted face hovered into view. Jon tried to raise his fist to hit him, but the movement pushed a huff of air out of him that he couldn’t suck back in and the darkness swallowed him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	28. An Unlikely Partnership

Xxviii. Arys

 

He had almost reached his climax when Cersei's phone rang and she climbed off of him to get it. He lifted his head and watched the slick lips of her cunt part as she crawled across the bed and bent over low to snatch it off of the table.

 

The sight made his mouth water.

 

“Yes?” she said eagerly into the phone. Her ass was sticking up into the air as she rested on her forearms to talk into her cell. He looked at the glistening entrance he was aching to push back into as she spoke.

 

“Are you sure?” she said into the phone. Arys slid his body to position his mouth underneath her. She raised up when she noticed his presence and looked down sternly at him as she listened to the person on the other line.

 

“And the Stark girl is w-” she shuddered as he pulled her hips down and thrust his tongue into her hot quivering body. “with you?”

 

He felt his cock twitch desperately as he rolled her clit with the tip of his tongue. He felt her pussy tighten against his mouth and he pushed his tongue back up inside of her. “Yes,” she moaned. He didn't know who she was talking to anymore.

 

She rocked her hips back and forward and rode his tongue until a spasm rocked her body and her sweet juices flowed freely into his mouth. “Yes! Just bring her to me,” she gasped as she came around his tongue.

 

She hung up the phone and tossed it down onto the bed. She climbed down off of his face and positioned her self back onto his cock. She dropped down onto his full length with a new found enthusiasm causing him to throw back his head and groan loudly. She rose up and down along his shaft, stopping just at the head until he moaned into the hot sticky air of the bedroom, finding his own climax and cumming deep inside of her with erratic hot spurts.

 

She climbed off of him, giving him a good view of his seed dripping down her thigh, as he lay back and slowed his breathing.

 

“I take it the news from Baelish was good...” Arys said as she wrapped herself in one of her silk robes and walked to the joining bathroom. She had been far too aroused to have been disappointed by Baelish or Clegane.

 

He heard the shower water turn on before she walked to the doorway and started to shuck out of her robe. “He has Sansa and is on his way here with her. He said she was with the Targaryen boy; not The Hound.”

 

“Is he bringing Targaryen back too?” he asked her as he got up and pulled on his crumpled jeans. Tywin Lannister had enlisted him to find Jon Targaryen and kill him.

 

“No,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I told Baelish to let The Mountain do what he does best.”

 

“Cersei,” he said crossing over to her as he zipped up his pants. “If Gregor kills Jon then that's not going to make me look very good to your father.”

 

She raised her eyebrows. “That's not my problem.” Arys felt his eyes widen as she shut the door to the bathroom on him.

 

_Bitch._

 

Arys needed Jon Targaryen alive. Not because Twin Lannister had asked him find him and kill him but because Robb Stark had asked him to find him and bring him to Sunspear where Robb Stark was staying with the Martells while his wounds healed fully.

 

Spreading the rumor of Robb Stark's death had been the Blackfish's idea. Robb was known to have incurred serious injuries at the New Year's party and it was easier and safer to make the people who might want him dead think that he was just that. At least until he had recuperated. Garlan Tyrell was taking Robb's pregnant girlfriend to Sunspear now. Sunspear was out of the way and out of mind, just the place for Robb and Jeyne to disappear. Riverrun was going to be an obvious point for the Stark family to reunite. Besides, Edmure wasn't the best babysitter ever. The youngest Stark girl had been there with him for a grand total of twenty four hours before he allowed her to run away with her boyfriend.

 

Where Catelyn hadn't seemed to show much of an interest in Jon's whereabouts, Robb had been adamant that his cousin be found as soon as possible and be brought to him. He insisted that he would need him.

 

It had been convenient that Arys had worked for the Baratheon's before he met Arianne Martell. The Martells had volunteered to help Robb piece together their broken family and Arys knew he could help with his connections to the Lannisters. When Tywin Lannister said he wanted someone to find and take care of Jon Targaryen, Arys had been lucky enough to have been chosen to be the one to find him. He was looking anyway and this way he didn’t have to worry about someone else beating him to it.

 

Except someone had beaten him to it.

 

_The fucking Mountain had beaten him to it._

 

Surely now, Jon was dead.

 

Sansa was another story. Arys had thought she was with Sandor Clegane but she had shown up to Winterfell with Jon Targaryen. Arys didn’t know Sandor personally but from what Cersei had told him about his and Sansa's disappearance, it almost sounded like Sandor had rescued her from Cersei. Had he gotten sick of her along the way and ditched her? Arys didn’t think he would be a very patient guy.

 

Either way, Sansa was now with Petyr Baelish and on her way back to Cersei. He had never seen her but he was told that she was uncommonly beautiful. If she hadn't been defiled horribly by The Hound, then she was well on her way to being sullied by Baelish. 

 

_Fuck, that dude was creepy._

 

Arys had disliked him since he had met him. He had I-play-with-myself-in-my-car-across-the-street-from-elementary-schools written all over his face. He made Arys's skin crawl.

 

Cersei came out of the bathroom in nothing but a lacy red thong and a towel wrapped around her long golden hair. Arys could see the moisture still shimmering on her smooth skin. “You're still here?”

 

She walked over to her dressing table and sat down in front of the mirror and began applying a thick cream out of a jar to her face. She caught his reflection in the mirror and looked at him expectantly as her phone rang again. “Hand that to me on your way out, would you?”

 

Arys picked it up off of the bed and stole a glance at the caller ID before he went over to her and placed the phone in her outstretched hand.

 

_If you weren't such an easy lay...._

 

“Hello?” he heard her answer it as he made his way to leave the bedroom.

 

He was closing the door when the conversation piqued his interest. “What do you mean, dead?”

 

Arys pulled the french doors closed behind him but left one cracked enough to be able to hear the rest of what she was saying.

 

“Who could have killed him?”

 

Pause.

 

“Well who the fuck else was there?”

 

Pause.

 

“That other redheaded girl that Clegane took?”

 

Pause.

 

“No! The Hound!”

 

Pause

 

“Do you think it was The Hound?”

 

Pause.

 

“Who else could have killed Gregor?”

 

Pause.

 

“We need to find out. Did you find the Targaryen boy?”

 

Pause.

 

“Just wondering.”

 

Pause.

 

“Ok. Let me know what you hear.”

 

She hung up on Jaime and  threw her phone onto the dressing table. She snatched her silk robe off of the bathroom hook and started for the door. Arys barely had time to cover. He trotted down the hall and started walking back to the bedroom doors casually as she opened the door.

 

“What now?” she spat with narrowed eyes.

 

“My wallet isn't in my pocket. Did I drop it in there?” he asked as he moved past her. He made a show of looking under the bed and the nightstand. He knew damn well his wallet was in the console of his Jeep.

 

“If I find it I will let you know,” she said as he got up off of the floor.

 

“Please do. There was a twenty in there.”

 

_She will love that._

 

She scoffed, rolled her eyes and herded him to the front door. He got into his Jeep and pulled out of the driveway. His thoughts were racing.

 

_Gregor was dead? Was it Sandor trying to save Sansa again? How fucking weird was that? Where was Jon? Was he dead too?_

 

Somehow, Arys was going to need to talk to Sandor Clegane, and he knew just the person to ask help him track him down.


	29. Balanced on Sanity's Edge

Xxviiii. Sandor

 

Sandor felt the gun shaking in his hands. He hated guns but he hated this overwhelming sense of loss even more. Not for the loss of his brother. Looking down the sight of his .45 at his brothers hateful face sneering at him right beside Jon's head had been one of the sweetest moments of his life. He finally was here. He was finally going to kill Gregor.

 

_What could you possibly do to me?_

 

That was the question his brother had been about to ask him before Sandor cut him off with a bullet between the eyes. He took a well aimed shot and ended the only thing that had given his life purpose. Gregor was dead leaving Sandor with an empty void that he had no idea how to fill. What purpose could he ever hope to have now?

 

The front foyer of Winterfell blurred around him and he felt hot tears leak out of the corners of his eyes. Suddenly there was shouting in his ears and a pounding on his back.

 

It took him several long moments to comprehend what the words meant.“You killed him! You fucking monster, I'll kill you for this!”

 

_Who would care that Gregor is dead?_

 

He felt frozen and as if everything was moving as if it was underwater as a small fist connected with his nose. His eyes watered and he looked through the haze at the youngest Stark girl. She was staring daggers as she beat at his chest and face. He felt a few more blows land on his chest and she was gone. She rushed to where Jon was crumpled on the floor in a heap next to Gregor.  Arya Stark was sobbing and screaming into Jon's face. What was wrong with Jon? Sandor knew he hadn't hit Jon. His aim was too good and his hands had been too steady. He had barely even seen Jon as he had squeezed the trigger with a smile on his face just before his life was shattered and sucked into a meaningless black hole. Killing Gregor had been everything to him and now it was all gone.

 

_Not meaningless. Not everything._

 

_Sansa..._

 

His senses finally returned to him, and he strode over to where Jon was lying. He shoved Arya away into the arms of a young muscular man he knew he had seen before. He couldn't place the guy but whoever he was, he was helping restrain the little bitch from clawing at Sandor anymore than she already had.

 

Sandor leaned over Jon and saw his heavy lidded eyes rest on him. They were glazed and weren't focusing on him like they should have been. Blood gurgled in the back of his throat and spilled from the corners of his lips as he gasped for a breath. Jon raised his hand in an effort to push Sandor away, but the gesture was weak and took too much out of him. Jon shuddered and sucked in for air that wouldn’t come before his eyes closed and his body went limp.

 

“Jon!” Arya was sobbing behind him. “Gendry, let me go! He killed him!”

 

Sandor reached his hand up to the boys throat and felt for any signs of a pulse. There was a shallow cut on his throat where Gregor's knife had started to cut into him but it was barely bleeding. His nose and mouth were pouring blood but Sandor noticed that the flow from his lips had stopped as he searched for the flutter of a heartbeat. He pressed on the boy's chest hoping to find a faint pounding but felt nothing except the mushy give of his ribcage. Several of the protective bones were broken and probably digging into the tender organs beneath them.

 

“He must have seriously ruptured a lung or both,” he heard himself say out loud.

 

He turned to see the Stark bitch punch this Gendry in the face and rush towards him. She tried beating at him again but he grabbed her by both of the wrists.

 

“You fucking killed him!” she was still screaming at him. He shook her and brought her up to his face. Her eyes were swollen but were gleaming with more than just tears. She hated him.

 

“Why would I kill Jon?!” he snarled into her face.

 

“I saw you!”

 

“I shot my brother! I tried saving him!” he said as he shoved her away from him and back to Gendry who was massaging his jaw.

 

He had to go back to Sansa. He had to make sure she was still safe. 

 

“I'll fucking kill you!”

 

“Arya! Stop! Listen to him!”

 

“What did you do with my sister?!” He heard the two yelling behind him. He didn't care. He just needed to see Sansa sitting safely in the front seat of his car. He rounded the front door and stormed to the driveway like his very sanity was dependent on it.

 

_It is and you know it is. She is everything now._

 

He felt like someone was twisting a knife in his stomach when he got to the car and saw that it was empty. The front passenger door was open and one of her small black flats was hooked in the gash he had made between her legs to get his pistol out. The other dainty shoe was on the cement not far away. Sandor wheeled around desperate to see her standing in the treeline of the surrounding forest, just out of danger's way.

 

“Little bird!” he roared as loudly as he could. His breath hitched and he felt panic well up and threaten to bubble up out of him in the form of rage. “SANSA!”

 

His shouts seemed to die as soon as they hit the trees. She ran back up the steps to the house and burst through the door. Gendry and Arya were still huddled in a tight embrace on the floor beside her dead cousin.

 

“Where the fuck is Sansa?!” he blurted at them. He didn't know what else to do or where else to look and was hoping desperately that Arya and Gendry had somehow taken her somewhere safe.

 

The girl looked up at him confused and still seething anger through her grief.

 

“Where did you take her?!” Sandor felt like he could contain the panic no longer. He strode over to them and grabbed Gendry by the throat and picked him up out of the floor. Gendry was a strong boy but adrenaline was coursing through Sandor and he didn’t feel the blow to the jaw that the boy threw at him. He threw him back and Gendry recovered as he sucked in a deep breath and braced himself for another attack.

 

“You had her. Ygritte told Jon and Arya that you had her. What have you done to her?” Gendry was leaning against a wall but was ready to pounce this time if Sandor wanted to come at him again. The calm tone of his voice and the implication that he had done anything to her infuriated him. He rushed Gendry again and took a square hit to the brow as he slammed the kid up against the wall and brought his own knife up to Gendry's throat. Blood ran into his eyes from the well-aimed jab making him squint against the blood pouring down his face.

 

He was blind on the one side. Thats why he didn’t notice the girl until she cocked the gun and shoved it up under his jaw. He opened his eye and looked down at her through the blood clouding his vision. She had his .45 jammed into his neck. He must have dropped it when he charged off to find Sansa.

 

“Get the knife away from his throat and tell me where the hell my sister is.”

 

“Girl, if I knew, we wouldn’t be standing here.”

 

“Then I guess you have exceeded your uses,” she sighed.

 

 

 

 

 


	30. When There is Nothing Else to Live For

Xxx. Sansa

 

Her wrists were raw again. Every movement against her restraints bit painfully into the exposed flesh. She could feel Tyrion kicking weakly against the hood of the trunk beside her, but it was no use. It wasn’t going to get them out of here.

 

They had been in this trunk for almost a week with little change except the occasional bite of food or sip of water. She and Tyrion had been left in their own filth in this trunk with the only indication of time passing being the sway and bumps of the road. Occasionally they stopped but they were never let out. She had cried most of the time. It sounded as if Tyrion were trying to comfort her but she couldn’t tell. They were both gagged when they weren’t given their measly ration of food and water.

 

_Just enough to keep us alive._

 

The voice that would talk to her when the trunk was opened was vaguely familiar. It must have belonged to the man who had chloroformed her and put her here. She hadn't caught a glimpse of him then and she hadn’t managed to wiggle the blindfold off so she couldn't see who her captor was but he seemed to know her. His voice was eerily calm and always sounded as if it contained a hint of a smile. His hands would linger when he set her up to sip her water or eat her food and his thumb would rub her chapped lips before slipping a finger into her mouth. She wished she could bite it but all she could do was writhe and cry.

 

She tried to think about after Sandor had gone into the house. 

 

They had heard gunshots.

 

“Stay here and stay down,” he had snarled at her as he slammed his knife down towards her lap. He ripped at the leather between her legs and groped around in the stuffing until he brought up out of it a large shiny gun. He had only been gone a matter of minutes when she heard one more gunshot.

 

_Please let him be ok..._

 

Then she had felt the smooth cloth around her mouth and nose before she fell into fitful dream.

 

She slept as much as she could. It passed the time and the nightmares that met her in sleep weren't as terrifying as the one she was living. She somehow always knew they were only dreams. She dreamed of the last time she was bound and molested. She saw Osney looming over her, pinning her to something soft. His predatory gaze making her feel the hunger in his stormy grey eyes.

 

_They weren't that dark._

 

She looked around her and saw that she was on a bed in a cheap hotel room. When she looked back up to the weight pressing into her, Osney was gone and it was only Sandor on top of her. She felt a wave of relief wash over her and felt her tensed body relax. His eyes were the same dark grey as Osney's had been before and they were still hungry, but this wasn't dangerous and frightening. This was comforting. He would never hurt her, no matter how much he wanted her.

 

She lifted up her arms to wrap them around his neck in an embrace when she noticed that they were still bound by a zip tie. There was blood running down her arms and when she looked up it was Osney again. She was in her torn blouse and the mini skirt had ridden up around her waist, leaving her wide spread legs exposing her sex to him. He was pushing himself inside of her.

 

She was woken from her nightmare when she felt someone shaking her and trying to get her to wake up. “Quiet, girl.” came his soft voice in her ear. “We are here.”

 

She cried and allowed her body to be lifted by strong arms. She couldn’t even bring herself to fight back. She felt weak and still exhausted. She let the sobs wrack her body as she was slung over a shoulder.

 

“Have you asked Cersei where she wants her?” came a voice close beside her that was somehow familiar. It was smooth and deep, though not as deep as Sandor's and had a dignified laziness to it.

 

_Where have I heard that voice?_

 

“Take her to the basement,” came the voice of her captor. Sansa's heart sped up in her chest and she found it in her to fight back again. She squirmed and kicked against the man carrying her but to not avail. She was soon tired, too weak to fight back anymore so she cried more. She was starving and parched. She smelled terrible and felt itchy from the amount of bodily filth that was caked onto her. She was in pain from the ties at her wrists that were being pulled even deeper into her skin by the awkward angle they were being pulled into and now she was going into Cersei Lannister's basement to endure what else she was afraid to imagine.

 

She tried not to think of what had happened last time she had been in that basement.

 

_His fingers probing her. His eyes drinking up her nudity. Him unzipping his pants in front of her face._

 

_Oooh! Good! It makes it more real when you cry!_

 

Only this time, Sandor wouldn’t come walking through that door to stop them. Sandor wasn't here and he didn’t know where she was, even if he was inclined to come save her anyway. He might even be dead. She felt like she was out of tears to shed and she was so tired she felt almost lulled to sleep by the rhythm of the steps of the man carrying her. Sansa felt her body relax and resign itself to whatever was waiting for her in Cersei's basement. She couldn't fight anymore and no one was going to save her this time.

 

Sansa felt all fight leave her as she was sat roughly into a hard chair. Her blindfold was ripped away and she was almost convinced that Osney was going to be the one sneering in her face, but Osney was dead. Sandor had killed him.

 

_No one is here to save you now._

 

Her resignation faltered when she was met with the intense green eyes of Roose Bolton. She was sure that the shock was plain on her face when she first looked upon him because he smirked at her and pulled away.

 

“Hello Sansa.”

 

“Mr. Bolton. I don’t under-”

 

“I'm sure you don't, lovely. I wouldn’t expect you to be overly concerned with your father's indiscretions, a pretty little thing like you. Rich. Privileged. Beautiful. Why bother when everything is being handed to you by your father and your brother?”

 

Sansa was rendered mute. Roose Bolton was always one of the heads of her father's most trusted  families. The Bolton's dealt with some darker things than the Starks had but they were still family friends. When Sansa regained her composure, confusion overwhelmed her earlier apathy.

 

“Mr. Bolton-” Her words were cut short by another person walking through the door behind her. She heard the hinges squeak faintly and the catch of the latch be pushed to. Roose Bolton's eyes lifted from her and narrowed at the person approaching from behind her on quiet footsteps.

 

“Dad!” came a triumphant voice behind her. It was the voice of her captor. “Cersei wants her cleaned up and brought into her study before she has a chance to speak with her.” He moved around to stand beside Roose Bolton and she put a name and a face to the voice that had been keeping her in his trunk for the past week. Ramsay Bolton stood beside his father with a maniacal gleam in his eyes.

 

Suddenly, everything that Theon had ever said to her about Ramsay Bolton came flooding into her conscious thought without her permission. She began to cry as she stared unseeing into his beautiful and excited green eyes as she replayed her time with Theon.

 

_Theon... he loved me._

 

Robb and Jon would never talk to her about such things but Theon never treated her like a child. They would get drunk at parties or around Robb's house and talk. She only now noticed why he was always talking to only her. She wished he had not told her about some of the things he had heard about Ramsay and why he hated dealing with him so much.

 

_Had Robb and Jon known about this? How could they not?_

 

She knew that sometimes some feathers needed to be rustled but this.... this was different. This was sadistic.

 

“I don’t know what you want from me-” she started before Ramsay cut her off. She didn’t want to be skinned alive.

 

“I don't want anything, sweetheart. We aren’t here for me. Let's go get you cleaned up.”

 

_She wants my skin clean! Oh god! What are they going to do?_

 

She was pulled up out of the chair whimpering and crying as Ramsay and Roose pulled her into a side courtyard and plunged into a stock tank that was freezing cold and tinged with pink. She gasped for air as the needles of the cold water stabbed into her body all at once. She tried to push herself up and out of the painful water but was pushed forcefully down by the father and son.

 

“They want you clean. You smell like shit,” she heard Ramsay's cold voice cut into her more deeply than the freezing water. One of them threw a bar of soap at her as Ramsay ordered her to undress and bathe. Every time she rose out of the water, she was pushed roughly back in. She sat shuddering in the icy water, unable to move or look at the people she believed to be her father's friends when she felt rough hands on her. Ramsay was ripping her soaked soiled clothes off of her as she sobbed uncontrollably.

 

“P-p-please...” Her teeth were chattering but she started to scrub herself with the soap and cold water until she was clean. Anything to get out of the painfully bone chilling water she was submerged in. She could see the blue showing through her pale skin even through her tears. “S-s-sandor, where are you?”

 

The laugh that met her negated any of the relief she felt as she was yanked from the freezing water. “Sandor? The Hound? He's as cold as you are by now. Gregor saw to that for us.”

 

_Not The Hound. His name is Sandor._

 

She was shoved forward blindly through her tears and through the biting night air against her soaking naked skin into the blissfully warm air of the house. She was lifted as her feet gave way under her weight into a soft chair. The last remaining fight left her and she realized that her hope faded with the knowledge that he was gone.

 

He was dead and he couldn't save her now. A sadness that she hadn’t felt for herself consumed her. Sandor was dead.

 

_Sandor is dead._

 

The implications of that devastating piece of news settled in and with it an apathy that she had never known. She suddenly didn’t care if she was flayed or raped or killed. She could almost feel herself slip into someone else as Ramsay came towards her with a glimmering knife.

 

“Are we ready to begin, Ms. Lannister?”

 

She saw through someone else's eyes the images of Cersei Lannister and Ramsay Bolton smiling down at her. “I think so, Ramsay. Start with her pinkie finger.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	31. Fine in the Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok... Im sorry about the lull in updates. Ive been having a bitch of a time with the next couple of chapters. Thanks to everyone for being patient and for all of the awesome comments. it makes it worth it. you know, at least im no the only one who likes this shit. Don't hate me for Sansa's cliffhanger. it's coming.

Xxxi. Arya

 

“Arya, we need to listen to him!”

 

“Gendry,” Arya said mockingly. “He fucking _shot_ Jon!” As if to emphasize her point, Arya shoved the barrel of the gun deeper into The Hounds throat. He swallowed deeply but only against the pressure from the .45 pressed into his windpipe; the rolling eyes and exasperated sigh didn’t indicate any genuine worry.

 

“You chose the wrong sister, man,” The Hound directed back towards Gendry. “This one is stupid and ugly. I guess I got the good one,” he said as he gave his massive shoulders a shrug. Gendry scowled at Clegane but didn't move. The tip of The Hound's knife was still pushing into his skin under his jaw.

 

“What have you done to my sister?!” Arya screamed at him. She could feel the tears of anger rising in her again.

 

Suddenly, The Hound had whirled around on her and had the gun in his left hand and Gendry's throat in his right. Later, if she had to explain it, she wouldn't be able to remember the blur of his movements or how someone his size could be so fast. All she was sure of, was that her wrist was screaming in pain and he was somehow choking Gendry while staring her in the eyes. She could feel the pressure of the barrel pressing into her temple as she stared in horror between Gendry gasping for breath and The Hound's menacing glare inches from her face.

 

“I haven't done a fucking thing to your sister or to your cousin, you little cunt. Jon probably died from a punctured lung; his ribcage felt like jello. Do you see a fucking bullet wound on him somewhere? If you _ever_ pull my own gun on me again, Sansa's feelings be damned, I'll shoot you _and_ Romeo over here,” he almost whispered as he jerked his head towards Gendry without lifting his eyes from hers. His voice started shaking as he spoke again. “Now if you don't have Sansa or know where she is, stop wasting my goddamn time.”

 

Finally, he dropped a red faced and choking Gendry to the floor and pushed past Arya roughly. He strode to the door in long and heavy strides as Arya rushed to Gendry.

 

_Sansa's feelings be damned...._

 

“Don't let him leave,” Gendry gasped through painful breaths.

 

_Do you see a bullet wound?_

 

Arya felt tears stinging her eyes and after a moment of carefully trying to read Gendry's expression, she pushed herself to her feet and sprinted out of the front door after The Hound.

 

_I tried to save him._

 

Arya felt hot tears streaming down her cheeks as she realized that she might have been misinterpreting the situation. She didn't know why The Hound was so concerned with Sansa's whereabouts but it was beginning to look a lot less malicious than it had earlier.

 

Captors don’t care about their captives' feelings. Plus, The Hound had shot his own brother, and without, seemingly, a second thought.

 

She got to the front door as he was sliding into the driver's side of his car. “Clegane!” she yelled out before he closed the door. He looked at her through the windshield with a hateful scowl. He closed the door with a hard slam and looked away as he slipped his key into the ignition and turned the engine over. Only, the engine didn't turn all the way over. The vintage car was putting up a fight. He turned the key again and kept it in the start position as he pumped on the gas pedal. The early model GTO struggled to catch before he gave up and slammed his palms onto the steering wheel in rage and defeat.

 

Seeing her window, Arya ran down the steps and to the winding driveway. Seeing her approach, Clegane tried desperately to crank the car to life. Arya trotted up to the passenger-side of the car and yanked the door open defiantly before he had a chance to petulantly reach over and push down the button. She hopped in to the bench seat over a large gash in the upholstery as the tears cleared from her eyes.

 

The Hounds head dropped to his white knuckles wrapped around the steering wheel as he took a steadying breath. “What the hell do you _want_?” he said as he jerked his head up to her. His eyes were boring into her with impatience and anger. “Are you going to stare me to death?”

 

“What's wrong with your car?” she asked without a trace of the previous fear she had felt.

 

He stared at her with his mouth open; disbelieving. “Are you shitting me? Get the fuck out! I have-”

 

“Do you want to find Sansa or not?”

 

“This has nothing to do with you.”

 

“It has everything to do with me! She's my sister!”

 

“I-” he started before giving a growl of frustration. The note of panic rising in his carefully controlled tone did not escape her attention.

 

“You and I both want to find her, right?”

 

“Get the fuck OUT!” he roared to her.

 

“I want to help!”

 

“What the fuck could _you_ help _me_ with?”

 

“For one, Romeo in there that you just tried to choke out, can help with this hunk of shit,” Arya said motioning to her at the car she was sitting in.

 

“This is an American classic,” he added childishly.

 

“Yeah, it a classic American piece of shit.” She jerked her thumb to the less than perfect Ford Mustang parked at the end of the driveway behind them. “He's knows American clunkers.”

 

“Look girl, I don’t have the patience for this.”

 

_You and me both, you fuckstick._

 

She wasn't sure what had changed her resolve in the past few minutes. It might have been Gendry's assurances or the confusing affection that Clegane was obviously showing for Sansa's well-being. She had no way of knowing at this moment but something was not what it seemed from the outside. Something had happened to The Hound in the past week that had made him act this way towards Sansa's  sudden disappearance.

 

“Look, little wolf bitch, I don’t know why you think that I would want your help after you shove my own gun into my jugular, but you are even more confusing than your cock-tease of a sister.”

 

_Cock-tease?_

 

“Ok, clearly we are looking for different people. My sister could hardly be described as a cock-tease.”

 

Clegane just gave a huff of what she could only assume was mild amusement. He rolled his eyes and looked out the windshield towards the back of the house. “Where are you, little bird?” he said so low that she was sure he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

 

_What the fuck was going on with this savage and her prim and proper sister?_

 

Arya sighed heavily. “Look, if you want help then sack up and ask. If not, then have fun getting the Detroit clunker to start.” She moved to open the door and go back to get Gendry out of the house when she felt his firm grip on her wrist. It was insistent but not violent.

 

“Romeo knows cars?” he said hesitantly.

 

Arya turned slowly appraising the fingers wrapped around her wrist with a raised eyebrow. “Sure, how do you think he keeps _that_ running?”

 

Clegane flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror before he said the most unlikely of things. “Is that a five speed?”

 

“Fuck if I know,” she said as she yanked her arm out of his grasp. “I might be all ugly and butch but I don’t care about cars.” His earlier words still hit a bitter note. She had been compared to her sister for their entire lives and while she had no desire to be the prude her sister was, she was resentful of the perfect light her sister was cast in while she was being constantly frowned upon.

 

The Hound huffed another sign of vague amusement. “Dont talk to me about ugly, kid.”

 

She scoffed. “I won't.”

 

Clegane looked at her with a hint of an irritating smile curling his wrecked lips. “Hope Romeo can drive that thing as well as he can fix it,” he said as he opened the door and lifted himself out.

 

Arya jumped out and trotted up next to him. “Gendry has been asphyxiated. He cant drive!” The Hound rolled his eyes and continued to outstride her towards the front door, taking the steps two at a time. “And don’t call him Romeo,” she added irritably as an afterthought.

 

“Well, then you drive,” he said obviously.

 

“I cant drive a manual transmission,” she said trying to keep up with him on the steps to the door. “Slow down, asshole!”

 

He whirled on her momentarily with narrowed eyes. “Don't push me, wolf bitch.”

 

Now it was Arya's turn to roll her eyes at him as she dashed up the remaining steps, “Or what.... asshole?” she chided as she darted around the door into the house of her dreams and nightmares. She really didn’t want to be here anymore than necessary. She found herself unable to not look at Jon and Ygritte lying dead in pools of their own blood as it coagulated with Gregor's. The irrational thought of blood borne diseases occurred to her before she was able to finally look towards Gendry.

 

He was leaning against the wall as he tried to work free the feeling of a bruised Adam's apple. He looked past her to the shadow that had obscured the daylight pouring in from the doorway and gave her a solemn nod of his head. Somehow he had seen something early on that she had missed. He was always the cool one while she was always hot headed and temperamental.

 

She felt the reluctant smile pull at her lips. “Come on, stupid. The puppy needs a ride.”

 

Gendry smiled weakly and tried pushing himself up but had to suck in a few more deep breaths before he found himself at his full height. Arya put an arm around his back and allowed to him to rest some weight on her shoulder when she heard the sound of the .45 she had held in her own hands being loaded. She looked up and saw the silhouette of Clegane in a defensive stance with one arm raised.

 

“Oh, this just keeps getting better and better,” he growled. She pushed Gendry into the hallways leading towards her Dad's old study. It might not be much but at least there was drywall in between them and whatever The Hound had found looming in the doorway. There was always Theon's trapdoor in his closet.

 

“Arys, is it the Hydrocodine or is Clegane really pointing a gun at me?”

 

_Bronn?_

 

“Well, did you expect him to be _happy_ to see you?” came a voice that Arya could only assume was this Arys person.

 

“What are you doing here, Arys?” came Clegane's distinctive growl. “I've about reached my limit for surprises today.”

 

 

 

 

 


	32. Romeo and Casanova

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok... just a warning, I hate this chapter. I don't think I was ever going to be ok with it so im posting it and getting it the hell out of the way so I can move on to the parts I want to get to. I should have titled this chapter, "See How Many Inconsistencies You Can Find."
> 
> *Rolls eyes. Shakes head*

Xxxi. Bronn

 

These Stark kids were going to be the death of him.

 

First he takes a bullet for Robb at that goddamn party and now he's got Arys asking for help finding Sansa.

 

Of course he was going to do it. He had worked for Catelyn Stark for a good amount of time before he had gone to The Stag and had always remained friendly with Ned and Catelyn afterwards. It made him feel old to think that he had basically watched the younger children basically grow up, especially the girls. Arya had turned into a total spitfire who could hold her own against her older brothers. She was always a little tomboy and had no problem hanging with the guys. Bronn would have felt sorry for anyone wanting to kidnap her. He couldn’t imagine her going quietly.

 

Sansa would be a different story. She was always the perfect lady, just like her mother. She had become a delicate young woman. Not to mention a complete cock-hardening fox. She would be easy prey to some perv who wanted nothing more than to take advantage of Ned Stark's oldest daughter. This wasn't just anyone feeling like a good rape though. This was Cersei Lannister out for revenge for Joffrey. Arys said she had been talking about nothing else. Bronn was personally glad that sadistic little shit was dead.

 

When Arys Oakheart had come to him on his last day in the hospital, Bronn hadn't expected anything like what Arys had asked him for.

 

When shit went down, it _really_ went down. He had heard about Robert Baratheon's death, of course, and had been immediately fired by his bitch of a wife, Cersei. Bronn had always hated Cersei. She was hot but Bronn didn't know what else the Stag had seen in her. He hadn’t been particularly disappointed by being let go of her services. For the first time since he had become a cop, Bronn's loyalty was not being bought. He was going to do whatever he could to find Sansa.

 

Arys said she had escaped Cersei with the help of The Hound. He seemed to be under the impression that The Hound had taken her away from Cersei to help her. To _save_ her. Bronn doubted that. While Sandor was a puppy compared to his brother Gregor, he still wasn't someone who would go around saving damsels in distress. Sansa would have been Osney's reward for bringing her to Cersei and The Hound and Osney had been something closely related to friends. Osney probably would have given Clegane a turn after he was done with her.

 

Either way, finding Sansa meant finding Clegane. Bronn would be able to track Clegane's unique car and find him hopefully, pretty fast. Arys had been vague about details, making Bronn think that there was a lot more to all of this than he was letting on. Bronn wasn't totally sure how much he wanted to trust Arys. Arys had been with the Martells for the past year ever since he started shacking up with Arianne. Suddenly, he showed back up wanting to work for Tywin Lannister?

 

Bronn decided he needed to talk with Arys more before he helped him find Sansa. He needed a better idea of who exactly he was finding Sansa for. It probably wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart.

 

Bronn met Arys at Casterly Rock, one of the cities more popular strip clubs. Tyrion Lannister owned the place and while that didn’t do much to assuage Bronn's suspicions towards Arys, he found himself more than happy oblige him a drink and a dance from a warm body. When he walked in, Arys was sitting at the bar nursing a beer and chatting with one of the dancers. Bronn made his way over to Arys and sat down on the stool next to the girl trying her best to flirt tip money out of Arys. Judging by the defeated look and the way that she quickly turned to Bronn, ignoring Arys all together, she had been unsuccessful.

 

“Hi!” she said brightly.

 

“Not now love,” Bronn said tucking a bill into the string of her panties and winking at her. “But don’t forget about me.” 

 

Arys laughed and downed the rest of his beer. He dropped it onto the bartop, attracting the attention of the bartender. He held up two fingers to the young boy, as Bronn gave the dancer a small pat on her ass as she walked away.

 

The boy brought the beers over. “Here you go, guys,” he said popping the caps on the bottles and setting them down. The voice that came from his mouth was much higher pitched than Bronn would have expected.

 

“Good God, you're a woman! I would have never guessed,” Bronn blurted out.

 

Arys rolled his eyes at him and grabbed his fresh beer. “Ignore him, Brienne.” She smirked good naturally.

 

“Look, no offense, sweetheart... wait. _Brienne_? As in Jaime Lannister's _Brienne_?” Bronn said slowly.

 

“One in the same.”

 

“Interesting! Well, look darling, this horse piss might be good enough for him,” Bronn said as he motioned towards Arys. “But I'm going to need something a little stronger.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Surprise me.”

 

Brienne took the beer away and went to pour him a drink.

 

“I see almost dying hasn't changed you at all, thats good to see,” Arys said with a smile.

 

“What, like I would have found religion or something? No. Drinking and girls are still what I live for,” Bronn started as Brienne brought him his drink and set it down with a wink. “Well, most girls. Just be happy you weren’t at that party. Hey, I saw your girlfriend there. She didn’t get hurt did she?”

 

“No, I was there and no, she is fine. We left early. Arianne was horny,” Arys said shrugging his shoulders. To call this kid aloof would be an understatement.

 

“Ah, to be young and handsome again,”

 

“You were young and handsome?”

 

“Quiet, kid. Now speaking of pretty girls, what do you care about Sansa so much for? I watched that girl grow up and I'll be damned if I help hand her over to Cersei.”

 

Arys turned and faced Bronn. He appraised him with a raised eyebrow and narrowed eyes. He was going to have to do a lot better than that if he wanted to try intimidating Bronn. Somehow, Bronn didn’t think that was the case though. It was as if Arys was trying to decide if he could trust Bronn, which seemed to him, a little backwards.

 

Arys' expression softened as he seemed to make up his mind. “I'm not here for Cersei.”

 

 

An hour later, Bronn was on a plane with Arys on their way to Winterfell. His head was still spinning from all of the information Arys had given him but he found himself believing every word of it. He even found himself getting sucked into the idea of The Hound _helping_ Sansa, although, he didn’t think that Clegane was doing it for the most noble of reasons.

 

“Sweet ride,” Bronn said appreciatively looking around the private jet.

 

“I know, right? Arianne's dad's. He let me use it while I'm tracking all of these kids down. Faster than driving everywhere.”

 

“I didn’t know the Martells and Starks were so chummy.”

 

“Who knew?” Arys said with a shrug of  his shoulders as he got up and made himself a drink. Bronn saw his opening and took it as he eyed the mini bar greedily. “Are you supposed to mix those pills and booze?” Arys said as Bronn washed down two of his pain pills with a measure of scotch.

 

“Depends on how much fun you want to have,” Bronn allowed after a moments consideration. “You know, Clegane isn’t going to be thrilled to see me. He won't trust me.”

 

“He won't trust me either. We have met only a handful of times, but he doesn’t want Sansa with Cersei anymore than I do and he might know where Jon is.”

 

“Yeah, we'll see,” Bronn said skeptically.

 

 

These drugs were awesome but he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or if Clegane was really about to shoot him. Somehow in his codeine hazed mind he knew that it was the latter. The man could have been foaming at the mouth and still not looked anymore crazed than he already did.

 

“What are you doing here, Arys?” The Hound growled to them. “I've about reached my limit for surprises today.”

 

“Don't shoot him!” came Arya's voice out of a cloud that looked like the hallway. Suddenly she was standing stupidly between Bronn and Arys and Sandor. “Don't shoot Bronn!”

 

“Arya? What the fuck?” Bronn said incredulously.

 

“Wait, that's Arya?” Arys said beside him. Bronn nodded his head.

 

“Get out of the way, little wolf bitch.” Clegane rasped.

 

“Since when do you play with those?” Bronn asked as he motioned towards the gun in Sandor's hand.

 

The Hound smirked at him, “Shit has been getting a little out of hand lately. Now, why are you here?”

 

“I'm looking for Sansa,” Arys broke in. “I thought she was with you so I followed you here. He helped me find you.”

 

“Who are you?” Arya interjected.

 

“Casanova here?” Bronn asked as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Arys. “Pretty boy is helping Robb find all of you guys. Aren't you supposed to be with your uncle in Riverrun?”

 

“Robb?” Arya asked disbelieving.

 

“I'm sure you heard Robb was dead. He isn’t. He's recovering in Sunspear with my girlfriend,” Arys directed at Arya.

 

The Hound had lowered his gun but it was still gripped tightly in his fingers. He watched the entire exchange with an impatient expression on his face. He looked like he was going to explode.

 

“This is fucking touching, really it is,” Clegane seethed with his head lowered and his eyes closed tightly. “But I have to go. Wolf bitch, get Romeo. We have wasted enough time.”

 

“You don’t have to worry anymore, Clegane. I'll take care of it and Bronn is going to help me,” Arys said before the rage on Sandor's face became too much and he whirled around towards them with his gun aimed at them again.

 

“Stop! Don’t hurt them!” Arya had jumped in between him and The Hound again.

 

_This bitch is insane._

 

“Robb sent them!”

 

“And you believe that, do you?” Sandor growled down at her menacingly. “Fine, go with them for all I care. I'm going after Sansa without your help then.”

 

“Yeah, I do! Bronn wouldn't hurt Sansa!”

 

Sandor scoffed but didn’t say much of anything coherent. He was mumbling under his breath but Bronn couldn’t understand what he was saying. He did know that he could feel the anger coming off of him in waves.

 

“Arya, go with Arys to Sunspear. I'll go with Clegane to find Sansa. When Arys drops you off with Robb, he can come help us if needed.” Gendry had walked in from the hallway without anyone noticing. Bronn hadn’t even known he was here, but it made sense. Arya had been trying to hide that little morsel of information from Ned and Cat for a while now.

 

“I'm going with you. I want her safe and with her mother,” Bronn added.

 

No one but Clegane seemed to have a problem with that plan. He was almost shaking with frustration but Bronn sensed that his impatience would ensure his temporary compliance. He glowered at Bronn and pushed past them and out of the front door. “Come on, Romeo!” he called over his shoulder.

 

It wasn't until The Hound's massive form was gone, that Bronn noticed the bodies at the end of the foyer. Jon's telltale black curls where lying next to Ygritte's bright red locks made only dull and brown from the blood pooling around them.

 

Bronn's eyes went wide and he felt tears stinging the corners. “Is that-”

 

“Don't,” Arya said simply as she hugged Bronn fiercely. He grunted from the pain but returned her embrace. She really was a great kid and he was glad she was safe.

 

“Is that The Mountain?”

 

He felt her nod against his chest.

 

“Good riddance, fucker.”

 

“Sandor shot him. He tried to help Jon.”

 

“Arya, what's going on? Why does he want Sansa so bad?”

 

She remained still against him and let out a deep sigh before finally answering his question. “Just help him find her. He will take care of the rest.” She let go and ran over to Gendry and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don't get killed, stupid,” she said before kissing him. She darted out of the house. “Come on, Oakheart!”

 

“Romeo!” came Clegane's booming yell.

 

Gendry walked to the door and past them. He shot Arys a look that neither of the men missed.

 

“I agree. Take care of Arya for us,” Bronn said seriously to Arys. Arys nodded solemnly.

 

Bronn turned around and saw Clegane stomping towards Gendry's fastback at the end of the driveway with Gendry trotting after him. Arya was bouncing on the balls of her feet waiting for Arys. Bronn just sighed.

 

_A roadtrip with Clegane was going to be worse than being hospitalized with no booze and no girls._

 


	33. The Walls Have Ears

Xxxiii. Tyrion

 

The screaming was starting to get to him. He wasn’t sure what exactly was happening to Sansa but if it somehow involved Ramsay Bolton then it surely wasn’t pleasant for her. At first it had started as whimpering and crying that could be easily compared to how she had sounded the night that Tyrion had stayed with her and The Hound in their hotel room.

 

_This, this is different._

 

It had gradually progressed into something far surpassing a menial whimper. It had risen into an almost constant blood curdling scream. The sounds seem to emanate from the floor of Tyrion's room. She must be in the basement. He wasn’t entirely sure of how his sister was doing things but he had always known that when The Stag had taken people into the basement, they didn’t come back out.

 

_Where was Clegane?_

 

The poor girl had been through plenty in the past week and a half. She didn’t need to be subjected to Ramsay Bolton or Petyr Baelish. Tyrion was sure that whatever Sandor Clegane and Sansa had gone through together had been less than pleasant.

 

_Olive Garden looked pleasant enough. She had cried in his arms in the hotel room._

 

She didn’t deserve this. None of it and it made Tyrion's blood boil. She had been mistreated ever since that pervert Petyr had chloroformed them in Clegane's car in front of Winterfell. They had both been bound and gagged in the trunk of Ramsay's car and driven across the country without anything beyond a drink of water and some fucking bread. Tyrion had begun to feel weak on the third day but Sansa had emanated a steely resolve until she had been pulled out of the trunk once they reached Cersei's house. Her crying and writhing had been heart breaking for Tyrion to hear but he knew somehow that she was comforted in her belief that The Hound was on his way to save her.

 

Somehow, Tyrion was too.


	34. A Savior of Sorts

Xxxiiii. Sansa

 

“Why?” she had been pleading for the past several minutes or hours, she didn’t know. Her eyes were swollen from the tears she had been shedding and her throat felt like she had torn her vocal chords long ago. She was sure that her pleas for mercy were lost but she couldnt grasp why.

 

_Why?_

 

Why was this happening to her? She couldn’t fathom any universe in which this was a just punishment for anything she had ever done. Who would want this amount of blood and pain from her? She stared down at the pool of blood that had accumulated under her and tried to remain conscious but she found the resisting pull from the black edges of her vision were too tempting. She allowed herself to fall into the dark place where pain couldn’t touch her.

 

But she still dreamed her horrible dreams and suddenly, being awake and alive started to look a little better. Even with the pain.

 

Her panic and fear had kept her from being able to piece together the events that had led her here to this basement of horror and pain. Everything had been a blur of terror or ecstasy since the party at Gendry's on New Years eve. She thought back to the night of the party and remembered Theon talking to her and being open with her. He had confessed his feelings for her and told her how he felt. Sansa had remembered being moved and flattered but it wasn’t what she had felt later.

 

_Not what I felt with him._

 

Her heart still ached at the thought of Theon's unrequited love for her and how she would never be able to make it right for him. He was lost to her forever and she would never be able to tell him how special he truly was to her, even if it wasn't exactly what he had always hoped to hear. She felt the onslaught of bitter tears choke her as she tried to focus on something other than the outside pain. She thought of Osney and all of his smooth words and charming glances and touches. She thought of how he had sidled up to her as she was pouring a drink.

 

_Does being drugged and tied up get you off?_

 

He had been handsome and polite; everything she had ever wanted in a man.

 

_I'm not the monster you should be scared of._

 

It was in the least likely of places that she had found a glimpse of what she had been looking for. Not many people would consider 'The Hound' a comforting person, but from what she had experienced, he had been what she had needed all along. Just when she had found him and begun to see him for who he truly was, he was taken away from her.

 

_The Hound? He's as cold as you are by now._

 

She regretted every time she didn’t touch him or kiss him. They had kissed a few times and it had been as passionate as she had ever wanted. The other boys she had kissed had been sloppy and desperate to get into her pants. Sandor's kisses had been hungry but even when she had thrown herself at him, he had been the one to push her away. He hadn’t pushed her away out of a lack of desire for her. He had made that abundantly clear. He had been livid the morning they had gone to Ihop. She would have never taken him for the type of man to concern himself with birth control and she had been glad for it later, but now she felt only regret. He had shown her his capacity for tenderness and compassion when Tyrion had shown up at their hotel room and Sandor had set aside his desires to console her through her grief.

 

She had lost so much already and now she realized that she might just have lost it all.

 

He was rough around the edges, there was no denying that. He wasn't her knight in shining armor but he was her knight in slightly tarnished armor.

 

_Was. Was your knight. He can't save you anymore._

 

She would never catch his eyes lingering on her again. She thought of how it had excited her and made her heart race with her own desire.

 

Another kind of grief overwhelmed her and made her double over from the ache in her chest. She sobbed fresh tears for her greatest loss of all. Lost love. Somewhere along the short way, she had fallen in love with Sandor and he had been cruelly snatched away before she had even realized it.

 

Sansa once more looked down at her hand. She found herself once more wishing that they would just cut it off and be done with it. She couldn’t bear to look any longer. It made her queasy and light headed but sometimes she had to remind herself that it was real. She felt her stomach roil with bile but having just emptied the meager contents of her stomach when they had been back with a clean knife and a glinting eye on her last remaining untouched finger, she found that she could only dry heave.

 

She did that a lot. Her ribs ached from the constant crying and heaving and her throat was raw from the screaming. She was so tired and so hungry. She just wanted to go to sleep and perhaps never wake up. That seemed so much easier than any of this. What was the point anymore?

 

Her heart didn’t even skip in her chest when she heard the door open and footsteps make their way over to her. She didn’t bother to lift her head and see who had come in. She already knew he would be back. He always came back. Sometimes Cersei was with him and sometimes she wasn’t. She never stayed for the torture though. She didn’t seem to be able to stomach it any better than Sansa did. She just seemed content to know that Sansa was suffering.

 

“Good morning, Sansa.”

 

She didn’t know whether it was morning or not but she knew that that was not Ramsay. She felt herself tremble as she still couldn’t bring herself to look at whoever had come to hurt her now.

 

“I'm not here to hurt you. I want to help you.”

 

His voice was smooth and eerily calm. It was one of the men who had kept her in the trunk. Her eyes went wide and she looked up into his face. “You are the one who kept me in the trunk.”

 

The man dropped his eyes away from her and let the small smirk fall from his face. He sighed heavily. “I'm afraid I was one of the ones who kept you there. Cersei assured me that she only wanted to talk to you. When I saw that Ramsay Bolton was going to accompany me to come fetch you, I feared the worst. I tried to play my part but I was still unable to spare you any of this,” he said gesturing to the gore around her. “I've failed you and I have failed Cat.”

 

Sansa's gaze shot back up at the mention of her mother's name. “Cat?”

 

“Your mother and I were very close growing up. In the wake of your families tragedy, I had wanted nothing more than to reunite her with her daughter.”

 

“You know where my mother is?” Sansa couldn't stop the swell of hope surging through her.

 

“I'm afraid I don’t. I can only speculate that she would be with Edmure or Lysa. I think our focus for now should be getting you out of here and keeping you from anymore senseless cruelty.”

 

“What about Cersei?” Sansa immediately felt herself putting her trust in this stranger. Wherever he was taking her, it couldn’t be worse than here.

 

“I have ensured our escape won't be interrupted,” he said as he tried to gently undo her bonds.

 

“I'm sorry, but I don’t even know your name,” Sansa stammered.

 

The man with the salt and pepper hair gave a small smile while he continued to free her. “Of course, how rude of me. My name is Petyr.”

 

 

 


	35. Rising Tempers

Xxxv. Sandor

 

How he had allowed Bronn to come with him, he wasn’t sure. He had been anxious to get away from Winterfell so he supposed he would have complied with almost anything. The sight of his brother bleeding out on the floor next to Jon and Ygritte was a sight he was eager to leave behind. Jon's mortality was only a reminder that Sansa was just out of his reach. She had been taken while he spent short minutes in the house after he shot Gregor and he had left as soon after. He wasn’t far behind. Luckily, he knew where they were taking her, thanks to Arys.

 

He thought he had left King's Landing behind forever when he had taken Sansa away from Cersei and here he was going back for her.

 

A week ago he would have never thought that he would have reacted to her disappearance the way he did. It had been blind panic. The frenzy that  he had found himself in had been uncontrollable and had left him almost completely unaware of what he was doing or what he should be doing.

 

He had almost choked Gendry to death.

 

Despite his irritation towards Bronn, Sandor found the kid to be a pleasant traveling companion. He didn’t say much and that was the way Sandor preferred people. Most people.

 

_You enjoyed talking to Sansa._

 

Further proving to Sandor that his presence was a mistake, Bronn broke Sandor's train of thought. “Sansa just isn’t her sister,” he was saying to Gendry. “I would feel sorry for anyone who kidnapped Arya. Sansa is far too delicate-”

 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sandor blurted out at Bronn in the passenger seat.

 

Sandor was speeding Gendry's fastback Mustang down the interstate at an alarming speed. He had dared to take his eyes off of the road for a second to glower at Bronn and quickly corrected the slight pull he was feeling on the right side. Gendry gripped the back of his seat uncomfortably.

 

“Woah there, stud!” Bronn said in a defensive tone. “I didn't mean anything by it. I love those girls but they are very different.”

 

“You're telling me,” Sandor muttered meeting Gendry's eyes in the rear view mirror. “Too delicate to, what? Stick up for herself? Survive?” He felt himself getting phrenetic again. “I don’t care who I have to go through, I'm going to get her back!”

 

“Get her _back_?” Bronn said accusingly. “I don’t know what you think your part in this really is, but she has a family she will want to get back to, Hound.”

 

_Like I havent given that a little more thought than you have._

 

Sandor seethed and kept his eyes and concentration focused on the road. “My part is keeping her safe.”

 

“Well, you are doing an awesome job so far.” If Bronn didn’t keep his mouth shut, Sandor was going to kill him with his bare hands.

 

“Do you think Arya is going to be safe with Arys?” Gendry interrupted from between their shoulders.

 

“Yeah, I do. Otherwise I wouldn’t have let her go with him,” Bronn said suddenly serious.

 

“Since when do you give a damn about what happens to a bunch of Starks?” Sandor cut over to him.

 

Bronn narrowed his eyes at Sandor. “Look, you mangled son of a bitch, I took a fucking bullet for Robb at this kid's party,” he said jamming a thumb towards the backseat. “By the way kid, you throw a hell of a New Years bash, you know, except for all of that killing people shit. Keep me off of the guest list next year.”

 

Gendry smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Like hell you did,” Sandor said vehemently. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the one who shot him. If you are taking bullets for rival family members, then why did the kid almost die?”

 

Bronn shot him a look that suggested that regardless of his disadvantage in age and in physical stature and the obvious fact that Sandor was barreling them down the road at a scary speed, Bronn would have taken a swing at him.

 

Sandor heard a small chime and looked around. “We need to stop and get gas.” Gendry said from the backseat as he looked over Sandor's shoulder. Sandor nodded his head. He had the money from his duffel bag but everything else was left in the bench seat of his GTO back at Winterfell. He was probably never going to see it again. At the rate that this V8 was burning through the fuel, he was going to be broke by the time they got to King's Landing.

 

Sandor pulled off of the interstate on an unassuming exit to fill up.

 

“Here,” Bronn said as he handed Sandor a credit card. Sandor narrowed his eyes.

 

“What are you doing with a credit card?” Sandor was immediately put on edge.

 

“I'm a cop. I have a legal income,” Bronn said simply with a shrug of his shoulders. “Plus, I pay my bills on time.”

 

“I have cash.” Sandor was not about to accept a piece of traceable plastic from Bronn.

 

“I do too,” Gendry offered.

 

“Keep it. We'll need it later.” The kid was growing on him. “If you use that card while you are with me, I'll cut it up and shove it up your ass,” he said pointing a threatening finger to Bronn.

 

“Aren't you going to buy me dinner first?” Bronn said waggling his eyebrows mockingly at Sandor. Sandor got out of the car and slammed the door. He stormed over to the pump and put the nozzle in the car.

 

He heard the passenger side window roll down beside him and Bronn's irritating voice breaking the silence. “If I can't use my card, when are you going to buy me lunch? I'm starving.”

 

Sandor could almost physically feel something in his mind snap.

 

He turned and wrenched the door open with no other thought in his mind other than how nice it was going to be to pummel that unctuous prick. He grabbed Bronn by the shirt and yanked him out into the gas station parking lot. Bronn stumbled but regained his footing quickly. Sandor could hear Gendry's protests as he scrambled from the back seat but ignored him. He swung a heavy fist at Bronn but the smaller man was quick and ducked before Sandor could make contact. Bronn pulled his 9mm gun from the waist band of his pants and aimed it straight at Sandor's face.

 

“What are you going to do with that? Besides make me mad... You think this is a fucking joke?!” Sandor roared at Bronn. Gendry had gotten out of the car and was trying to push Sandor back away from the barrel of the gun. Sandor shoved the boy aside with a disgusted look. “Neither of you give a shit! Cersei isn't trying to take the girl you love away from _you_!”

 

“We all care about Sansa, Clegane,” Gendry said.

 

“Oh...” Bronn said slowly. “You are thinking with your dick.”

 

Sandor took both hands and shoved Gendry to the ground. He closed the gap between himself and the loaded gun and grabbed the barrel and put it under his arm and held it behind his back as he pressed his body in closely to Bronn's.

 

“You better make sure to put a bullet in me if you are going to go around saying shit like that,” he said in a low dangerous voice. “It's going to be the only thing to save you.”

 

He dropped his grip on the gun and turned his back on Bronn. That bitch wasn't going to shoot him. He extended a hand to Gendry and hoisted the boy to his feet. He nodded his head in way of an apology and Gendry nodded back.

 

He reached into the car and took out his wallet and threw some money at Bronn. “Go pay for the gas and get yourself a goddamn snack, you toddler.” Bronn shot him a nasty look but clearly wasn’t going to pass up the chance for food. He had finally shut up and walked into the gas station without a word.

 

Sandor walked around the car and sat back into the drivers seat. He gripped the wooden steering wheel so tight he thought he might splinter it. Gendry sat down next to him in the passenger seat.

 

“Let me drive for awhile,” he said.

 

“No. We need to make good time.” Something about being behind the wheel gave him an outlet for his frustration. It gave him something to concentrate on. It felt like he was actively doing something.

 

“I'll make good time. You know, Bronn and I have known Sansa for a lot longer than you have. Don't make the mistake in thinking you are the only one who loves her.”

 

Sandor felt his jaw clench.

 

_I did say that out loud, didn’t I?_

 

“Plus,” Gendry continued. “Do you know how long it took me to get this car fixed up? I cant have you wrecking it.”

 

They boy had dodged around Sandor's anger and moved away from the whole _love_ thing. Sandor looked around the car appreciatively. “What year is this?”

 

“It's a '68. Finding parts was a bitch.”

 

“I know. I have to locate a new tail light for mine,” Sandor seethed.

 

_Fucking Bronn._

 

“Oh man, that won't be hard. You can get those out of a catalog. That starter is going to be the pain in the ass. That's a '72 GTO, right? I'll ask around once we take care of this business with Sansa. You and her can come up to the house and Arya can put it in while I cook something up.”

 

Sandor couldn’t believe his ears. Gendry's blind faith that they were going to get Sansa back safely and that life would go on was stupid, but it was comforting. What was even stranger was that Gendry was assuming that Sandor would just be accepted into the family and that they were going to have some kind of double date dinner at the house from hell.

 

“You cook?” was all Sandor managed to say.

 

Gendry laughed. “Yeah, quite well actually.”

 

Bronn came back out to the car and opened the passenger side door. Gendry started to get up but Sandor stopped him. “I'll slow down a little. Stay up front. You can get in the back.” he directed vehemently towards Bronn.

 

Gendry leaned the seat forward to let Bronn in the back and adjusted the seat back into a comfortable position. Sandor didn’t know what it was, but the guys laid back attitude had somehow managed to calm him down when he thought nothing was going to calm him down.

 

 _He thinks I can be a part of Sansa's life._ _I'll never be a part of her life after all of this._

 

Something about the way Gendry spoke so certainly of Sandor's future with Sansa have him some hope.

 

He hoped he could get to her in time.

 

He hoped she would forgive him.

 

He hoped she could love him back.

 


	36. Tying Up Loose Ends

Xxxvi. Cersei

 

Cersei heard a terrible commotion coming from the vicinity of the driveway followed directly by an exchange of rapid gunfire. Cersei's breath hitched in her chest as she crossed to the window of her bedroom that looked out over the driveway. One of the men her father had brought with him and Janos Slynt lay on the pavement in pools of their own blood. Cersei heard more gunshots as she raced down the stairs to find her father.

 

_If only Jaime were here._

 

She was met on the stairs by Roose Bolton. He was trying to push her back up the stairs.

 

“Let go of me!”

 

“Why the fuck are you trying to go down there?”

 

“What's happening? I need to find my father!” Her father would be able to make sense of what was happening.

 

“He told me to keep you upstairs. He wants you safe.” Even in a moment of turmoil, Roose was calm and dignified.

 

“Who the hell is here?”

 

Roose paused. “It's The Hound. He and Bronn and one of the guys that is with the Starks are here.”

 

“Why the hell is _he_ here?”

 

“I don’t know but your father seemed to think he was here for the Stark girl.”

 

“Well, give her to him before he shoots his way up here.”

 

Again, Roose paused. “I was on my way up here to tell you when they showed up.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “She's gone.”

 

“She's _gone_?”

 

“Petyr is missing too.”

 

They had lost their bargaining chip and a very dangerous man was working his way through the house. What would he do to her when he found her? Cersei felt her blood run cold but was comforted by the fact that her father was here. He would keep them safe.

 

_But just in case._

 

“Roose, find Ilyn and have him come up here.”

 

“He's already dead. He was smoking a cigarette in the garage.”

 

“Then I will need you to stay up here with me. If The Hound makes his way up here, you will be the one to kill me before he gets a chance to doing anything more unsavory.”

 

Roose just nodded.

 

 

 

Xxxvi. Tyrion

 

Tyrion listened through the door to the exchange between his sister and Roose.

 

_So Clegane came to her rescue after all. And Bronn is with him._

 

Tyrion waited for the footsteps to continue to retreat down the hall until they were drowned out by the gunshots downstairs, now startlingly close. They were underneath him in the basement. Surely Bronn and Clegane wouldn’t shoot him. Tyrion wondered nervously who the other Stark hired gun was. Tyrion slipped out and down the hallway until her reached the stairs. He descended as quietly as he could. The house had fallen eerily silent. When he got to the kitchen and living room he saw the bodies of several of his father's men and his father himself. Tywin Lannister was face down in a pool of his own blood, staring into space.

 

Tyrion found himself unmoved. 

 

Tyrion continued though the house to the top of the basement steps when he heard a roar laced with fury that was almost inhuman break the silence. He heard something or someone being thrown and a piercing scream of pain before it was cut off with the sound of crunching bone. Ramsay must have been on the receiving end of The Hound's rage. Tyrion was about to creep down the steps when he heard loud thunderous footsteps coming back up the steps. Tyrion began to panic and look for a place to hide but it was too late.

 

The Hound, Bronn and Gendry Waters were storming up the steps. The Hound's face couldn’t have been scarier if his eyes were glowing red. Bronn looked severely distressed and Gendry looked angry and resolved. Three men that cared deeply for Sansa had just found her torture chamber and no doubt the pools of blood and pieces of skin from her mutilated hand. The Hound saw him and stormed in long strides as Tyrion turned to run. He didn't get very far and was quickly snatched painfully up by the hair.  He heard as Clegane cocked his gun and prepared to fire.

 

“Wait!” Bronn interrupted.

 

“I swear I had nothing to do with Sansa!” Tyrion was trying to tell Clegane.

 

“Where the fuck is she?!” The Hound hissed into his face. They were both shaking.

 

“She's alive! She went with Petyr Baelish. He took her to his childhood home on the Fingers.”

 

“What have you twisted sons-a-bitches done to her?” 

 

“I'm not sure what happened to her. I heard the screaming and that was all. I would never hurt Sansa. It was Cersei and Ramsay Bolton.”

 

Clegane was visibly cracking with every word Tyrion was saying. “Yeah, I just took care of him.”

 

“We had to stop him from ripping the kid in half,” Bronn interjected. “Literally.”

 

“He wrenched an arm off before he broke his neck. I think we should have ripped off more than that,” Gendry seethed.

 

Tyrion noticed the blood that was soaking his hands and arms and down Clegane's right leg. The man was almost panting with exertion and blind fury. The sight of him in this moment belonged in a horror movie.

 

“I told you Winterfell was a trap. Why do you think there was no one there? Petyr has Sansa at the Fingers.”

 

Clegane processed this information for a few moments and then nodded before letting go of Tyrion. “Where is Cersei?”

 

“While I hold no love for my sister, I don’t think you should worry about her. You need to be on your way to find Sansa. While Petyr probably won't hurt her, I wouldn’t put it past him to do.... other things to her,” Tyrion said meaningfully to Sandor.

 

Sandor's eyes went wide as the message sunk in but he regained his composure quickly. “Gendry, go get the car ready to make the trip to the Fingers. Bronn, lets go find this cunt.”

 

“I think I’m on empty,” Bronn said as he checked his gun. “You got any more ammo, kid?”

 

Gendry shook his head. “In the car.”

 

“We wont be needing many bullets,” Sandor said as he pulled a large knife from its scabbard on his thigh. “We'll see how she likes skinning people alive after I’m done with her.”

 

Gendry trotted outside as Sandor and Bronn made their way up the stairs cautiously. Tyrion moved into the kitchen and packed some of the food up. He went over to his father's body and removed the wallet from his pocket. He took the money that he found inside and pocketed that.

 

The sound of two gunshots and two bodies hitting the floor came from over his head. He heard a muffled groan and then a third shot effectively cutting off the groan. His sister could be heard whimpering and pleading before he heard a short struggle. The noises that followed made Tyrions stomach turn. He had no idea the sound of someone being stabbed would be so noisy or so sickening. Cersei's screams cut off the sound of tearing flesh before she too was silent.

 

_Who else got shot up there? The Hound or Bronn._

 

A few moments later, only one set of heavy footsteps were heard coming down the steps. Sandor emerged into the living room covered in more blood.

 

“Bronn?” Tyrion said dreading the answer.

 

Sandor simply shook his head and started for the garage door.

 

Tyrion hurried after him. “Wait! Let me come with you. I want to help.” He wasn’t sure where this heroic streak was coming from but Sansa was a sweet girl. She had always treated him kindly and he would hate for any more misery to fall on her.

 

“What could you do, Imp?” Clegane said without stopping.

 

“I have food and I have money. Besides, my driver followed them to the Fingers. Podrick was keeping an eye on her until you showed up.”

 

“And what made you so sure I would show up?” he said with an amused expression on his face.

 

“Well, because you love her.”

 

Sandor turned on Tyrion and snarled down at him, all humor having vanished. “You followed us a little too closely, half man.”

 

Sandor stormed out of the house and towards the car that Gendry was waiting in. Gendry shot Clegane a puzzled look through the windshield. Sandor slipped into the passenger seat without waiting for Tyrion. Tyrion hurried to the door and wrenched it back open.

 

“I'm coming with you.”

 

“Where's Bronn?” Gendry asked.

 

Sandor actually looked a little sad and shook his head.

 

“Hey! I'm coming with you!”

 

Sandor rolled his eyes but leaned the seat forward to allow Tyrion to crawl in. Gendry cranked the motor to life with a rumble and backed out of the driveway like a bat out of hell.

 

“Where to, Hound?” Gendry asked as he whipped the nose of the car out onto the street.

 

“Don't call me that. I'm not The Hound anymore.”

 

Gendry snorted and looked over at Clegane's bloodied clothes. “Tell Ramsay that. Did you find Cersei?”

 

“Yeah, she was upstairs with Roose Bolton. He got Bronn right in the chest.”

 

“And her?”

 

Clegane shot a quick look behind him to Tyrion in the back seat. “She's out of the way.”

 

“Do you think all of that blood in the basement was Sansa's?”

 

“It wouldn’t have been anyone else's,” Tyrion interrupted.

 

Clegane visibly tensed and sucked the air through his clenched teeth. “I should have taken my time with Ramsay.”

 

“Is any of that your blood?” Gendry asked Clegane. “I've got a first-aid kit in the trunk.”

 

“Yeah, that fuck Ramsay got my with his goddamn knife. It feels like it went pretty deep.”

 

Gendry nodded and pulled over in the outskirts of the parking lot at a strip mall. He and Clegane climbed out and Tyrion followed. Clegane snatched the bottle of bourbon out of the floor of the car and went around to the trunk.

 

“Here, I got it off of Bronn before I left.” Clegane handed Gendry a large handgun from the waist of his pants.

 

Gendry shrugged. “It's not like any of them are registered.” Gendry popped the trunk and lifted the floor to reveal a padded arsenal of firepower. He wiped the grip and placed the pistol back into its spot.

 

Tyrion leaned in to look down at the fifteen or so guns that were in Gendry's trunk. There were spare magazines and clips; fully loaded along with a few higher caliber single bullets with hollow point tips. He had shotgun shells too.

 

“Did all of the Stark soldiers carry this much heat?” Tyrion asked, awed.

 

“God, no,” Gendry exclaimed. “This was pretty much all I did. I was the gun runner.”

 

“Doesnt keep you from being a lousy shot,” Clegane said with a trace of amusement on his lips. The sentiment did not reach his eyes.

 

_He's worried sick about Sansa._

 

Gendry pulled the first aid kit out of the trunk and Clegane wrapped his arm in gauze. He chugged the bourbon.

 

“So prince charming, are you ready to rescue the maiden fair?” Tyrion didn’t think Clegane would really appreciate the joke, but to his astonishment, Clegane looked down at him and smiled.

 

“Yeah. Let's go get the princess.”

 

 


	37. I'm Waking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for some of the (and not all) loyal followers of my fics:
> 
> Adk-SanSan  
> Mari88  
> Kells (my original commenter!)  
> RedSmileyFace  
> Redwalls  
> Charisa  
> Mary  
> and.....  
> Shannon
> 
> thanks you guys for all of the awesome comments! those were just a few that stuck out to me; so many other people have left awesome feedback on this story and I hope you all know that it is very much appreciated!

Xxxvii. Sandor

 

Everywhere he looked, he saw red. He wasn't sure if it was a residual effect of having seen the pools of Sansa's blood on the floor of Cersei's basement or if it was his barely contained rage. He wanted to know everything that had happened to that girl since she had set foot into that torture chamber but the only person left alive that could have told him was apparently held semi-captive himself in his own room.

 

As much as his natural skepticism was denying it, Sandor believed Tyrion. He had spent enough time around the Lannisters to know that Cersei and Tywin treated the half-man like shit. Jaime was the only one who had ever been kind to him.

 

Suddenly, Sandor thought of Jaime. He hadn’t been in the house and when he found his father and his fuck-buddy twin sister shot or stabbed to death, he wasn’t going to be overly thrilled.

 

Jaime was surely going to be a problem.

 

Sandor shook his head and continued to stare at his plate of untouched bacon and eggs. They were at Ihop. He was at Ihop without Sansa and he could think of no one or nothing else.

 

_It's our anniversary today..._

 

“Clegane?”

 

_Wouldn't it be, teddy bear..._

 

“Clegane?!”

 

“What?!” he snapped at a wide eyed Gendry.

 

“Are you still with us?” Gendry asked through a bite of toast.

 

“Tell me something. Just what the _fuck_ are we doing here eating eggs and pancakes when Sansa is possibly getting _raped_?!” His outburst earned him stares from several of the surrounding tables.

 

Gendry looked around nervously and Tyrion laughed heartily and loudly. “That _was_ a messed up part of that movie!” he said a little too loudly. Gendry still looked lost and Sandor shot a young teenage couple that were a little too cute and affectionate for his tastes at the moment a dirty look. The boy looked like he had possibly shit his pants and the girl just shot the nasty look back.

 

He was losing his touch.

 

“Look Clegane, announcing our problems to the Ihop will not help our endeavor,” Tyrion said conspiratorially over his plate of french toast. “My brother is probably already looking for you now.”

 

“Why me?” Sandor hissed.

 

“Cersei had already expressed concerns about your and Sansa's departure to him, though he didn’t seem to be overly concerned at the time, he will have surely put together the pieces of the bloodbath left at her house.”

 

“He isn't captain for nothing. He and Osney did a lot of work on the Stark's and the Baratheon's cover up. He kept me out of hot water once that I was sure I was going to get busted,” Gendry added.

 

“Did you guys need anything else? Some more coffee maybe? How's your orange juice, hun?” The ditzy waitress interrupted their conversation.

 

“Wicked. We're fine,” Gendry said a little shorty. He was an amiable sort but he had noticeably been on edge since he had seen the gore in Cersei's basement. Sandor had grown to trust him in the short amount of time they had been traveling together. He was extremely worried about Sansa and it showed.

 

“Alrighty then, I'm just going to leave this here...” She started to place the check on the table before Gendry snatched it out of her hand and threw it in Tyrion's lap. He woman looked scandalized and hurried off without another word.

 

“Bloodhound is right,” Gendry said suddenly standing up. “We need to get going. This was a stupid stop.” He had directed his frustrations to Tyrion a bit more than he needed to. It had been Tyrion's idea to stop for breakfast.

 

Sandor smiled and got up without hesitation. He clapped Gendry on the back and the two of them started for the door as Tyrion was left fumbling cash out of his pockets. “Hey! Do we want to-go boxes?!” the imp called after them.

 

“Bloodhound?” Sandor said to Gendry as they made their way to his car. Sandor noticed a group of young women smiling and giggling towards their direction. He had no doubt it was all for Gendry. The kid didn’t even notice.

 

“Yeah, like... you aren't going to let this shit go till we get her back kinda thing. I don’t fucking know,” he said as he dipped down into the seat and cranked the engine to life. Sandor saw as Tyrion hurried out of the restaurant and towards the car. Sandor spitefully slammed the door just before he reached it.

 

The girls giggled even more furiously and Gendry frowned. “Don't embarrass him. He really wants to help. We wouldn’t even know where Sansa was if it weren't for him.”

 

Sandor opened the door and let Tyrion climb in. “Didn't you notice those girls looking at you?” Sandor asked Gendry.

 

“Of course I did.” Gendry winked at them and tore through the parking lot as Tyrion struggled to buckle his seatbelt. He was thrown from one end of the backseat to the other.

 

“So?”

 

“ _So_... if you are going to be all in love with Sansa, then you gotta keep away from other girls.”

 

Sandor bristled. There had been far too much love talk between three men recently. “Do we really have to keep talking about this shit?”

 

“He has a point,” Tyrion said as he righted himself. “Sansa has no doubt had the same Stockholm Syndrome type feelings for you.”

 

“What the fuck does that mean?”

 

“Stockholm Syndrome is where a captive develops romantic feelings for their captor,” explained Tyrion.

 

“She was only my _captive_ because I didn’t want your twisted sister to get to her! I was trying to help her!”

 

“And why did you feel compelled to help her?”

 

“I don’t know, I...”

 

_Why had you been so concerned about her?_

 

“So what is your fucking deal with Arya?” Sandor asked trying to deflect the heat off of himself.

 

“What about her?”

 

“Well, you two seem awfully cozy and shit.”

 

Gendry laughed like it should have been obvious. “I saw those girls looking at us and I didn’t look back. I don’t ever want to look back. I love Arya. Besides, it was the car. Chicks dig the car.”

 

“Are you comparing yourself and Sansa to Gendry and Arya?” Tyrion chimed in from Sandor's shoulder.

 

Sandor turned around like he had been electrocuted only to meet the dwarf's own twisted face smiling smugly back at him. “No! They are all... I don't know, what are you?” he said turning back to Gendry.

 

“What? Is _relationship_ the word you are looking for?” Gendry asked with a smile as he barreled north to the small peninsula of the Fingers.

 

“Yeah. You guys are in one and Sansa and I aren’t.”

 

“Then why go through all of this trouble to save her?”

 

“She's...” Sandor was becoming increasingly agitated. If he should be having this conversation with anyone it should be Sansa.

 

_Would she ever even want to?_

 

“So you think that Sansa has _feelings_ for me?” He spat the word out like it was poison.

 

Tyrion shrugged. “I have become convinced of it but whether it is from true connection or from the intense situations you have been through together, I couldn’t say.”

 

Sandor kept his stoic face free of the disappointment he was suddenly overcome with and nodded.

 

_What if that is all it is?_

 

The rest of the drive to the Fingers was a short one that was spent in silence.

 

“So where is your driver?” Gendry asked. “Where is this place?”

 

Tyrion pulled his phone from his pocket and turned it on. He scanned through the messages that Pod had sent him and found the one he was looking for. He tracked the location and turned on the GPS.

 

“Well?” Sandor said impatiently.

 

“Hang on, I'm just looking for-” Sandor cut him off as he snatched the phone out of Tyrion's hand. He checked the screen quickly and threw the phone out of the window. “Hey! That was the new Galaxy!”

 

“What the fuck are you doing, you little sneak?!” Sandor had turned around in his seat and was trying in earnest to get his hands on Tyrion.

 

Gendry swerved and threw Sandor off balance before the kid pulled off to the side of the road all together. He threw the car into park and tried to restrain Sandor from strangling Tyrion. Sandor elbowed him in the teeth and was met with a blow to his temple that actually made his head swim a little.

 

“He knows goddamn well that shit can be tracked! Let me go, you little faggot! He _wants_ his brother to find us!” Gendry elbowed him in the temple again and suddenly Sandor's rage was turned on Gendry himself.

 

Gendry leaped out of the driver's seat and into the middle of the road. An eighteen wheeler blared it's horn and barely missed him.

 

Sandor followed and was on top of him before Gendry could get his senses together. Gendry was more than ready though and fought back viciously. The boy's strength was more than what Sandor had experienced before at Winterfell.

 

Sandor found himself underneath Gendry with the kid yelling down into his face. He was spitting blood from the elbow Sandor had sent into his mouth. “Don't be fucking stupid! You are about to get everyone killed because  you think no one could possibly care for Sansa other than you! You pulled this same shit on Bronn and he died trying to get her back! Wake the fuck up!”

 

Sandor felt the boil in his blood begin to cool.

 

Gendry was right.

 

“Fine!” Sandor roared from the ground. He pushed the kid off of him and brushed himself off. Gendry was heated but he could visibly see the rage dwindle in his blue eyes.

 

Gendry spit a wad of spit and blood on the ground and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was still breathing heavy from the exertion of the fight. “Don't fuck things up now. We're _this_ close to getting her back.” he said holding up his thumb and index finger millimeters apart. “You might be stronger than me Clegane, but if you botch this because of your temper, the only thing left of you will be a chalk outline.”

 

Sandor felt a surge of respect. He _wasn't_ the only one worried about her.

 

He nodded and raised himself off of the asphalt. He saw Tyrion peaking over the edge of the back triangle window of Gendry's Mustang and turned back to the kid. He extended a hand to help him up and was met with a glare and a refusal. Gendry hoisted himself to his feet unaided and licked the blood from his teeth before walking back to the car without a word.

 

_No wonder he is so good with that little Stark bitch._

 

Sandor watched as the kid got behind the wheel again and followed. He sank into the passenger seat allowing the wince of pain he felt from the change in altitude in his throbbing temple.

 

Gendry's smirk was well deserved.

 

“Tell me you at least saw where the fuck we are going before you threw the phone out of the window,” Gendry said as he gripped the steering wheel firmly.

 

“Yeah, I did.” Gendry had already pulled back onto the highway. Tyrion was notably silent.

 

“Tyrion, did you see where Podrick is? We need some intel,” he directed into the rear view mirror.

 

“Yes. He is at a bed and breakfast in the nearest town.”

 

“Then that's where we are going.”

 

“We can't just-” Sandor started but Gendry cut him off.

 

“We need to know what is going on in the house.”

 

“We _will_ know what is going on in the house if we break down the fucking door!”

 

“I hate to admit,” said Tyrion to Gendry. “But he is probably right. This place will not be heavily manned beyond Baelish himself. I don’t think any recon will be necessary. He wont expect anyone to find him here.”

 

“Guns blazing, huh?” said Gendry sarcastically.

 

“Hey, it worked at Cersei's house,” Sandor shot back.

 

“Tell Bronn that.”

 

Sandor felt something sink in the pit of his stomach.

 

_Regret? Remorse?_

 

He only nodded.

 

They took Tyrion to go meet Podrick at the B&B he was staying at.

 

Pod insisted that he go with them. “Let's get her out of there.”

 

“We can handle it,” Sandor said assuredly.

 

“Oh, I have no doubt, but I want to be there when you take this sick fuck out,” Podrick said with a bit too much vehemency for Sandor's comfort.

 

“Why? What has been happening?”

 

_Other... unsavory things._

 

“We're wasting time,” was all that Podrick allowed. “You got extras?” he asked Gendry motioning to the concealed gun in Gendry's waistband.

 

Gendry gave Podrick a quick bro hug and nodded. “I've always got extras.”

 

Sandor agreed and quickly followed Podrick out of the room. Tyrion was going to stay in the room of the bed and breakfast but he too insisted on going.

 

For the first time in Sandor's life since he was an infant, Sandor thought that he might cry.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	38. I Could Be Anyone Else

Xxxviii. Sansa

 

It was the third time Petyr had placed an inappropriate hand on her but this time was forceful and insistent.

 

“You look just like your mother,” he groaned into her hair before he ran his slimy tongue along the length of her ear. One hand was holding the back of her neck and keeping her from moving away from him. The other was wandering over her hips.

 

Sansa squeezed her eyes closed and stifled the sob that was threatening to escape her. Her tears fell silently except for the timid whimper. He grabbed a fist full of her hair at the nape of her neck and pulled down. Her chin was forced up and she could feel his short beard tickle along her throat.

 

“Please, Mr. Baelish...”

 

“Everything will be a lot simpler if you just cooperate, Sansa.” The implication was left hanging in the air. He pressed his body into hers and she could feel his erection against her stomach. She cringed and closed her eyes tightly.

 

“You are a vision, Sansa,” he said as he let the hand that wasn’t pressing her into him wander along the curves of her body. “That brute Clegane could never have appreciated you. You should find yourself fortunate that he never forced himself on you. True beauty is often lost on those who have none.”

 

_Or is appreciated all the more. Besides, he was more beautiful than you will ever be._

 

A fresh wave of grief overwhelmed Sansa as she thought of him and she began to sob. The hand in her hair tightened painfully.

 

“Cooperate, please,” he said teasingly. “Tell me Sansa, are you still a virgin?”

 

Sansa wasn’t sure of the answer that he wanted but she shook her head. “No.”

 

He knew the lie. “You tremble like one. It won't hurt too much. You will like it.”

 

“Please. Why?” she said as she allowed another sob to escape her.

 

“Does it matter?” He pushed a hand up the front of her shirt and roughly grabbed one of her breasts. He pinched her nipple too hard and made her cry out. “Cooperate or this could be quite unpleasant for you. I could please you and make you feel like you have never felt before. Do you think Clegane would have given you that courtesy?”

 

Sansa thought about Sandor again and gave up her fight. He was lost to her forever and there was no one to help her. She couldn't resign herself to death like she had with Ramsay but she could resign herself to the new terror she was met with.

 

She could be someone else. _He_ could be someone else. Anyone else.

 

Sansa tried to bring memories of Sandor to her mind as Petyr cut of his diatribe and groped her hungrily. She thought of when she had first seen him shirtless. She had been terrified of him just like she was now. She thought of the scars on his body and of the tattoos. Everywhere she looked there was something interesting. Some story to be told. His body spoke of his fearlessness and ferocity. It told his stories for him.

 

She thought of his hands running over her breasts, but she knew they weren’t his hands. They were Petyr's hands. They were too small and too soft to be Sandor's hands.

 

She thought of the times she and Sandor had kissed when Petyr brought his mouth and his insistent tongue up to her lips. Sandor had been hungry but surprisingly gentle. The twisted side of his mouth against her lips had been odd but pleasant. It was uniquely him. Petyr's lips were thin and hard. They weren't gentle and they weren't scarred.

 

She wouldn’t be able to make Petyr into Sandor in her mind so she tried to make herself into someone else. She wasn't Sansa Stark anymore. She wasn't Ned and Catelyn's daughter. She could be someone who liked the attention from the man that was assaulting her.

 

Petyr broke the kiss and pulled at the buttons on her jeans.

 

_Anyone else._

 

He quickly pulled them down and she found her feet willingly stepping out of them.

 

_You are enjoying this._

 

His hand came up and cupped at her sex. His fingers moved her panties over and moved a long slim finger between the folds of her lips. She was dry and it was uncomfortable.

 

She thought of other people. Anyone. She remembered a girl that she had gone to school with who had had sex with two of her professors to boost her grades. She also slept with half of the football team, including Boros and Meryn. She had been constantly trying to get with Loras but had never had any luck. Sansa and Jeyne had always wondered if it was because of the rumors that he was gay.

 

What had been her name?

 

_Alayne. You aren't Sansa Stark you are Alayne Stone._

 

Alayne felt her body quiver at her professors touch. She needed the grade.

 

Professor Baelish pushed one of his fingers into her cunt and she felt her body betray her as it moistened around his dexterous appendage. She whimpered as she lost herself in her new body.

 

“There is a good girl. Do you like that?”

 

Alayne kept silent and forced herself into an alternate universe.

 

Professor Baelish thrust another finger deeply into her and tore her maidenhead making her cry out in pain.

 

“Tell daddy that you like it.”

 

“I like it.”

 

“Tell him that you love it.”

 

“I love it, daddy.”

 

She felt his naked cock graze her lips with a grating slickness rather than a smooth one. She was bleeding.

 

“You were a naughty little liar. You were a virgin, Sansa.”

 

_Sansa...._

 

At the outburst of her true name, Sansa was forced to remember who she was but she kept her eyes closed.

 

“Sansa.”

 

She could finally convince herself that it was Sandor. He even sounded like the rough voiced man of her lost dreams. He was angry and sounded urgent, just like he always had.

 

Petyr stilled and she prepared herself for the penetration she was sure was coming.

 

“Sansa, don't move.” It was Sandor. It was her lost love and not this monster who was invading her body. She had finally convinced herself into another time, another place and with another man.

 

_With not just anyone else...._

 

Sansa remained still and found herself eager for Sandor to be with her again, even if it was only in her mind.

 

The piercing bang that met her ears startled her and forced her eyes open. Petyr's fingers remained inside of her and were still saturated with her virginal blood but the look on his face was one of shock and terror. His eyes were wide and blood was draining from his ear.

 

_No. Not his ear. His head._

 

He fell away from her and slipped roughly out of her. She winced as a strong arm fought her into something hard and hot. She closed her eyes again, and willed herself to believe it was Sandor, even though she knew he was lost and gone forever.

 

“Go check the rest of the house!” It even sounded like him.

 

She sobbed uncontrollably, knowing that the spell would be broken as soon as her eyes opened again.

 

“Sansa,” his voice came to her through her wracking sobs. “Little bird!”

 

She cried fresh hot tears that were painful in her destroyed throat. She wanted to scream anew at the pain she was feeling in her heart but she found her voice had left her unable.

 

_He even smells like Sandor...._

 

“Sansa! Please, sweetie. Look at me!”

 

She ventured a look up to her dream savior and was met with piercing grey eyes that were leaking tears of their own. She looked at the scars that she had committed to memory and found herself finally breaking through the haze of her nightmare.

 

Her head was swimming but every sense given to her was screaming at her to believe he was real. He was really here and he was really holding her.

 

Sandor was staring down at her intensely. His eyes were running over with grief and pain. He was holding her tightly and he was real.

 

Everything that had happened rushed back into her mind.

 

The flaying of her mangled hand.

 

The rape.

 

It was all over because he was alive and he was here. He was saving her again.

 

Sansa felt a kind of relief that she hadn’t thought possible. She clutched desperately to Sandor, willing the dream to be real. He was going to keep her safe. All of the pain and terror she had been through since she had been taken from him was over.

 

“Sandor,” she sobbed painfully into the crook of his neck. He voice was raw and torn from all of the screaming but his name on her lips was a better relief than she could have hoped for. She felt his chest heave as he clutched her tightly to him and lifted her up gently.

 

_He's crying too._

 

She closed her eyes and relished in everything familiar about him. His smell. His skin. His breathing.

 

She couldn’t stop the tears. He was alive and he was here.

 

_It's over._

 

“Shh. You are going to be ok, little bird,” he murmured as he carried her to she didn’t care where.

 

“Sandor.” His name felt refreshing on her lips.

 

“We're getting out of here.” She felt something warm and soft being wrapped around her legs before the bite of the fresh air hit her. They were outside.

 

“How is she?” she heard a worried voice at Sandor's shoulder.

 

_Gendry?_

 

“Get the car running.”

 

“Did you find Baelish?”

 

She was surrounded by familiar and comforting voices. She relaxed and let Sandor place her gently into a leather seat.

 

“Where is Pod?”

 

_Tyrion? Who is Pod?_

 

“He ran into Lothor Brune. He didn't make it.” Gendry sounded sad.

 

“Who else is in there?”

 

“No one.”

 

“Let's get the fuck out of here. She needs a doctor.”

 

She felt her hand being pulled up and whimpered in pain. The exposed flesh was tender and any slight touch would send her into tears.

 

“We can't go to a hospital.”

 

“She needs medical attention!”

 

“We have left a blood trail behind us. Hospitals ask questions.”

 

“It will get infected.”

 

“We need to get her to Sunspear. Robb will know what to do.”

 

_Robb? He's dead._

 

“Sunspear is too far away. She needs help now.”

 

“We can go to Riverrun. Edmure can help.”

 

_Uncle Edmure?_

 

Sansa felt the lull of safe voices around her and allowed herself to sleep on the cold leather of Gendry's seat for the first time in four days.

 

 

 

 


	39. Broken Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for a few of my other dedicated readers. You guys's comments and kudos keep it going!
> 
> lpgirl19  
> AngelOfDeath  
> scout  
> LadyLucifer  
> TeresaTrav  
> Kips  
> and....  
> scout_finch_rocks
> 
> thanks you guys for all of the love on all of my stories!

Xxxviiii. Arya

 

“I'm not going to Sunspear without Gendry and Sansa. Let it go, Oakheart.”

 

Arys sighed and handed the other bottle of beer to Edmure.

 

“She's stubborn,” Edmure explained feebly.

 

“No shit,” said Arys. She knew she had been a pain in the ass ever since they had left Winterfell.

 

Arya rolled her eyes. “So what has Robb been up to in Sunspear?” Arya asked through a mouth of Fritos. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of the football game.

 

“Recovering mostly. He got hurt pretty bad.” Arys said.

 

“Why didn't you tell me he was alive the first time I was here?” she asked her uncle.

 

“I didn’t know! Your mom doesn’t tell me shit,” Edmure said defensively. He took a swig of his beer and grabbed a handful of Fritos.

 

“Why don't I get a beer?” Arya complained into her cherry Pepsi.

 

“Because you aren't old enough,” Arys said as he watched the football games on the wall of TVs.

 

“What kind of concentration camp is this? Are you going to do twisted experiments or some shit on me next?”

 

“Let the girl have a beer,” Edmure said draining his own bottle. “Hey, bring me another one, kiddo.”

 

Arya vaulted over the back of the couch and trotted into the kitchen. She looked around for something stronger than beer and was rewarded with a bottle of gin under the small rustic table that served as an island. She twisted the cap off and took an experimental whiff. She didn't think she had ever had gin before. No one she knew drank it. It smelled like an alcoholic Christmas tree. She tipped it back and took a small sip.

 

It was not bad. It was a hell of a lot better than tequila.

 

She took a bigger sip and put the bottle back. She grabbed the two beers from the fridge and went back to into the living room with Edmure and Arys.

 

“How long is it going to take the Blackfish to go get a damn pizza?” Arys was asking Edmure.

 

“I told you we should have done delivery,” she said setting the bottles down on the glass coffee table.

 

“The special was for carry-out only, and you,” Edmure directed to Arya specifically. “Stay out of the Tanqueray.”

 

Arys whipped his head over to Arya as she rolled her eyes. “Arys was the one who just had to have wings _and_ cheesy bread.”

 

“Brynden said he liked wings too. You have to have wings and beer when you watch football.”

 

“We should have sprung for the delivery charge,”Arya said motioning around to the luxurious home around her.

 

“Hey!” they heard the Blackfish calling from the garage. “Someone come give me a hand with all of this shit.”

 

Arya and Edmure looked at Arys at the same time. He sighed at got up to go help Brynden.

 

“I'm still miffed he didn't get the hot wings,” Edmure said as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “Pussy.”

 

Arya watched as Gendry's favorite team scored a touchdown and Arya felt a stab of sadness. She really wished that bull-headed jackass was here with her.

 

“What are they doing?” Edmure said getting up and going towards the garage. “How fucking long-”

 

Suddenly, Arya heard a bang of the garage door being pushed open and a lot of heavy footsteps and urgent voices. Someone was crying.

 

“What the hell happened to her?”

 

“Fucking Ramsay Bolton happened to her.”

 

“And that goddamned perv Baelish.”

 

Her heart sank as she heard the shake in Gendry's voice.

 

“I just want to go to sleep,” She heard Sansa moan. “Please.”

 

“Come on, darlin' Lets get you in a safe warm bed,” Blackfish said as he walked around the corner into the living room with Sansa in his arms. She was curled into his chest like a small child. She suddenly looked so little it made Arya's heart break.

 

Arya ran around the couch as Gendry and Edmure were coming after Brynden.

 

“What can we do about her hand?” Gendry was asking Edmure before he was cut off by Arya leaping into his arms and hugging him around the neck fiercely.

 

“What happened to her, Gendry?” she asked terrified.

 

“Some of the skin on her hand was cut away. Ramsay flayed three of her fingers and cut off one altogether.”

 

Arya felt her stomach turn. “What about Baelish? What did he do?”

 

Gendry looked behind him and to Edmure before he said in a hushed voice. “He was going to rape her when we showed up. She was being molested when Clegane and I found her.”

 

“Where is Sandor?”

 

“I'd leave him alone, Arya. He's... not ok.”

 

Edmure furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything. He clearly hadn't been filled in on the bizarre relationship between Sansa and Sandor by Arys.

 

Arys came in from the garage trying to juggle the pizza, wings and more beer. He dropped it all on the coffee table. “Where is Clegane and Bronn?” he said to Gendry.

 

“Bronn didn't make it out of Cersei's house. Clegane is still in the car. If you value your limbs, I'd leave him alone.”

 

Arys nodded and grabbed a beer as he sank back down onto the couch. He stared pensively at the floor.

 

Blackfish came back down the steps. “Arya, why don't you help her get into some clean clothes.”

 

Arya shook her head. “I don’t have anything that will fit her.”

 

Gendry sighed. “Her stuff is in the car. Sandor grabbed it out of his trunk at Winterfell.”

 

Arya made her way to the garage and walked past Edmure's collection of fancy cars. The door behind the Maserati was open and she could see Gendry's Mustang parked beside Bryndon's truck. As she walked outside she could see Sandor Clegane sitting in the passenger seat with his head in his huge hands.

 

Arya walked up to the window and tapped gently. Sandor turned his head away from the window and wiped at something on his face.

 

_Had he been crying?_

 

He turned back and rolled down the window. Arya noticed that it had started to snow.

 

“What is it, little wolf?” he said in a quiet voice. It wasn't dangerous or threatening. It was defeated.

 

“Gendry said you had some of Sansa's clothes. I was going to help her change.”

 

Sandor nodded and reached over to the driver's side to pop the trunk. He opened the door and Arya moved aside to let him out. He went around to the trunk and grabbed a duffel bag out and handed it to Arya. “All of our stuff is in here,” he said handing it to Arya.

 

_Our?_

 

Arya was almost speechless. Something about this whole Sansa and Sandor thing seemed so completely different than it had in the beginning. She felt humbled by Sandor's reaction to all that had happened. He seemed almost as broken and small as Sansa had in Bryndon's arms. “Thanks,” she mumbled as she took the bag and turned to go back into the house to help Sansa.

 

Arya hurried up the stairs and went to the closed door to the room Sansa was in. She knocked lightly.

 

“Who is it?” she heard Sansa call hopefully from behind the door.

 

“It's me.” Arya didn't know who Sansa was hoping for.

 

_Does she want Sandor? Why isn't he up here with her?_

 

“Come in.”

 

Arya opened the door and slipped in. She closed the door behind her and crossed over to the bed that Sansa was curled up on. She put the bag on the floor and sat down beside Sansa. “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” Sansa smiled feebly.

 

“Lets get you into a warm bath and some clean clothes.”

 

Sansa nodded and raised up from the bed. Arya noticed her bandaged hand and felt the bile rise up into her throat.

 

_I wish I had been there to see that sick fuck die._

 

Arya went into the joining bathroom and started the hot water and plugged the drain. As the tub filled she went back in to find Sansa trying to unzip the duffel bag with one hand.

 

“Sansa, let me do that!” she said as she hurried over to open the bag. Arya unzipped the bag and started to dig through the clothes and toiletries. “Do you have something special in here you want for your bath?”

 

“It doesn't matter. Just whatever you find. Can you help me with the button on my pants? I have to pee so bad.” Sansa said with a weak huff of unamused laughter.

 

Arya got up and unbuttoned and unzipped Sansa's pants. “Thanks,” Sansa said with a teary eyed smile. She turned and went into the bathroom and Arya went back to the duffel bag. She dug around through the odd assortment of Sansa's frilly panties and bras and Sandor's plain cotton t-shirts and boxer briefs. There was a chunk of money at the bottom of the bag and an attache case. She dug the attache out of the clothes and opened it to find shampoo, conditioner and something other than bar soap.

 

When she opened the case, the first thing she saw was an opened box of condoms. Arya looked quickly over to the bathroom door and saw in the reflection of the mirror that Sansa was still struggling with getting her jeans over her hips.

 

“Do you need anymore help?” Arya called.

 

“No. I've got it, thanks.”

 

Arya looked back down to the box of condoms and picked them up gingerly.

 

She looked into the box and noticed there were only two in there.

 

There was supposed to be three.

 

Arya put them back and grabbed the bath stuff out and went into the bathroom. Sansa was trying to step out of her jeans completely.

 

“Here,” Arya said as she knelt down and held the legs of the pants as Sansa pulled her feet out. “You seriously need to shave your legs. I'll do it for you but you are on your own if you want that bush trimmed.”

 

Sansa actually laughed a real laugh. “Like I care.”

 

“I know you. You care. It will make you feel better to be slightly put together.”

 

Arya helped Sansa out of her shirt with as little jostling of her hand as possible. Even still, Sansa winced in pain a couple of times. Arya unclasped her bra and helped her step into the hot water of the tub.

 

“I found some bubbles in your bag if you want them,” Arya offered.

 

“Bubbles? I don’t have any bubble bath.”

 

“Yeah, this little bottle here,” she said holding it up for Sansa to see.

 

Sansa's eyes teared up but she smiled. “He must have taken it from the hotel.”

 

Arya unscrewed the cap and poured in the half-full miniature bottle. The room swirled with the scent of ripe pears. Sansa sighed and closed her eyes as she leaned back, careful to rest her hand on the side of the tub.

 

“Do you want to soak for a little while?”

 

“Yeah, but stay with me please.”

 

“Ok.”

 

Arya and Sansa sat in silence for a few moments. There were a so many questions Arya wanted to ask her sister, but Sansa was far too vulnerable to answer half of them.

 

“Where is Sandor?” Sansa asked timidly as she opened her eyes.

 

“He's outside in Gendry's car.”

 

Sansa nodded.

 

A few more moments of silence passed before Sansa broke it again.

 

“Will you go get him, please?”

 

“Yeah, let's wash you off and get you dressed.”

 

“I- Yeah, ok.”

 

“What? You want him here now?”

 

Sansa blushed. “Yeah. Just bring him up here, please.”

 

_What the hell? They are already having sex._

 

“Ok. Hang on.”

 

Arya went down the steps and was met with several anxious faces. “How is she?” Blackfish asked her before she was even all the way down the steps.

 

“She wants Clegane,” Arya said simply. She couldn't tell Bryndon and Edmure that she was in the bathtub and was wanting assistance from her new lover. Arya knew they weren't going to do anything, not with the fragile state Sansa was in, but just the idea of Sansa being naked in the bathtub with an older man was not going to please either of their uncles.

 

If Sandor was what Sansa needed now, then Arya wasn't going to run her mouth and ruin it.

 

“Clegane?” Blackfish asked. “Why would she want him?”

 

“He just saved her from almost being raped,” Gendry said defensively. “Give the guy some credit.”

 

Edmure remained quiet but was observing the the conversation around him thoughtfully. Arya could see him forming a conclusion behind his bright blue eyes.

 

“Yeah, but so did you. She isn’t asking for you.” Blackfish wasn't going to let this go.

 

“If she is comforted by his presence then are you really going to deny her that right now?” Gendry was getting visibly agitated.

 

Blackfish didn’t say anything else but Arya could tell that this topic was far from over. Arya went out to the driveway again and tapped on the window. Sandor looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

 

“What now?” he said rolling down the window.

 

“Sansa wants you.”

 

He looked up at her dubiously and scoffed. “Why would she want me?”

 

“I have asked myself the same question on several occasions.”

 

Sandor narrowed his eyes at her. “What did she tell you?”

 

_So there was something interesting to know._

 

Arya shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing. Come on, she needs you.”

 

Sandor got opened the door and got back out of the car. “Blackfish isn't going to kill me, is he? He damn near ripped Sansa out of my arms when I tried to carry her in.”

 

“He was just shocked. Come on.”

 

They made their way into the garage and into the house. As she led Sandor into the living room towards the stairs, she noticed the looks Blackfish and Edmure were shooting towards him. Gendry gave an almost imperceptible nod to her.

 

“She's upstairs,” Arya said trying to hurry him out from under her uncles' scrutinizing stares.

 

Arya walked to Sansa's door and knocked. She opened the door and called into the room knowing that Sansa might not hear all the way in the bathroom. “Sansa? I brought him.”

 

She looked behind her to Sandor, who looked worried.

 

“Sandor?” Sansa called from the bathroom.

 

Sandor looked down at Arya questioningly and sniffed deeply. “She's in the bathtub. I couldn’t exactly say that in front of her over-protective uncles.”

 

Sandor took a moment to look at her. It was the softest look she had ever gotten from him. He didn't say it and she didn't need him to. It was his way of saying _thanks_.

 

“Sandor?” Sansa called again.

 

Sandor walked to the bathroom door and pushed it open. “I'm here, baby.”

 

Arya heard Sansa begin to cry in earnest. Sandor quickly went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Arya could hear his efforts to console her and she could here her sisters sobs.

 

Arya had too leave. Being here any longer would make her feel like she was intruding.

 

Arya walked back down the steps into the living room and curled up against Gendry on the couch. He wrapped an arm around her and held her tightly as she began to cry.

 

Her beautiful, sweet tender sister had been through something that no one should have had to deal with. Arya sobbed and wished that it had been her instead of Sansa. She would have gladly taken the abuse if it had spared her sister. Sansa was older but she was such a delicate little thing.

 

No one would describe Arya as delicate.

 

She felt Gendry rub slow soothing circles on her back as she cried against him.

 

No one interrupted her or asked her questions. Arya hadn’t grieved for any of her family but now that they were all accounted for, either alive of dead, Arya allowed herself to mourn everything that they had lost.

 

_Her father._

 

_Jon._

 

_Theon._

 

_Sansa's innocence and possibly sanity._

 

_Bronn._

 

_Jory._

 

She cried until she felt herself drifting off to sleep with Gendry running his fingers through her hair.

 

At least she had Gendry.

 

At least Sansa had Sandor.

 

Love was a crazy thing.

 

 


	40. It Happened Too Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me.... this chapter took me by surprise but I knew once I had the idea to just go with it. It is perfect.
> 
> well.... at least for me it is...

Xxxx, Sandor

“I'm here, baby.”

Her tears came suddenly and unreservedly. The pain written across her face was enough to make him tear up again but he held back the agonizing feeling in his chest and moved towards her to hold her. He closed the door behind him and went to kneel beside the tub. 

She flung her dripping arm and her dry arm around his neck, half soaking his shoulders and chest but he barely even noticed. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly into him. He smelled the clean sweet scent of the pear bubbles he had swiped from the hotel for her clinging to her hair and shoulders. 

“I'm so sorry, little bird,” he said as he smoothed her wet hair down. 

“Please tell me this isn't a sick dream. Please tell me you are alive and you are here,” she sobbed desperately. 

Had she dreamed of him?

“Im here, Sansa. I'm here and you are safe.” 

She pulled away from him and blinked past the tears. She greedily explored every inch of his face and caressed his scars with her unmarred hand. She smiled sweetly and leaned in to kiss him passionately. He tensed as her lips met his and as badly as he wanted to kiss her back, he knew he didn’t deserve her kisses. 

“Sansa, don’t,” he said as he gently pushed her off of him. He could feel her hard nipples pressed against his chest and knew that she didn't care. She was completely naked but both of them seemed to have forgotten. 

When she pulled back, she looked as if he had slapped her. “Why? I'm happy to see you and touch you and smell you and taste you.”

Sandor felt something in him break at her confession. “I don’t deserve it, Sansa. Look at what happened to you and it's all my fault.”

“It's not your fault! You saved me.”

“If I hadn’t taken you to Winterfell in the first place you wouldn’t have needed saving. Tyrion told us not to go but I was too stubborn! This is all my fault.”

“You had no way of-” she whispered as she looked away from him.

“I should have just listened,” he said before she could give some excuse for his blatant reluctance to accept help from someone. 

“You took me away from Cersei before you even knew me. You saved me from Osney and Cersei. You didn’t have anything to do with that.”

If you only knew...

He could have told her. He knew he would have to tell her one day but now was not the time. She had already been through so much. 

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he said quietly to the floor between his knees.“I could have saved you sooner.”

So much sooner.

“I never blamed you. I love you.”

Sandor's head shot up and saw her smiling shyly at him. “What did you say?”

Sansa's courage faltered and she cowered away from him slightly. “Well, I mean....”

He pulled her back into him and kissed her like it was his last day on Earth. She smiled into the kiss and kissed him back with equaled fervor. He cradled her face in his hands and truly appreciated what he was holding. It was precious and he would never let anything hurt it again. He broke the kiss, knowing he didn’t deserve it, and rested his forehead against hers. 

“I'll never let anything hurt you again,” he whispered to her. “I'm sorry, Sansa. I have to go,” he said as he stood up abruptly and turned to leave. 

“Sandor?” she said to his retreating back. “Where are you going?”

He stopped and turned. “I have to fix this. I have to fix all of this.... this clusterfuck. I know you don’t think so but all of it is my fault and now I'm going to fix it. I'm not a knight in shining armor but I can try to be.”

Sansa looked hurt and confused. He couldn't blame her. He took one last look at her sad face and turned to leave again.

“Sandor?” she called again.

This time he didn’t turn around. He walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom to get his few things from the bag. He pocketed that cash that remained in the bottom of the bag and continued through the house. In the living room, Arya was asleep against Gendry on the couch. Edmure and Arys weren't around and Blackfish was watching the football games. Gendry shot him a worried and questioning look as Sandor headed for the door. He raised up from Arya as gently as he could but the little wolf was out cold. A tiny snore escaped her lips but otherwise, nothing changed.

Sandor could hear Gendry jogging after him as Sandor made his way out of the house and into the garage. He looked around at the cars that he had only briefly noticed before and tried to decide which one would be best to steal when Gendry came up behind him.

“What's going on? Is Sansa ok?”

“She will be. I have to go take care of some things.”

“Take care of what?”

“Just stuff, ok man? There are still some lose ends. This can never happen to her again and honestly, I don’t want it to happen to Arya either. That little bitch is growing on me.”

“I don't understand.”

“Neither does Robb or Catelyn. Jon didn't. Ned didn't.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It doesn't matter.” Sandor walked through the garage of Edmure's estate and down the driveway. Riverrun was a pretty big place. He would be able to take a bus back to the capital and end this.

You fucking coward. You couldn't even tell her the truth. She deserves the truth. She said she loves you.

Cersei was gone and Tywin was gone but Jaime was still out there and now he had a reason to have Sandor's head and possibly Sansa's. Especially if it ever got out that he cared for her. She could become a hostage against someone else altogether. Sandor had murdered half of Jaime's family for fuck's sake. He would surely pick up where his sister and his father had left off. 

Sansa would never be safe until the Lannisters were eliminated. 

What about Tyrion?

Cersei had been hell bent on getting Sansa as a hostage long before the New Years Eve Massacre. She had insisted it be Sansa and not the other little girl. Sansa was delicate and feminine. Hell, for all he knew, Cersei was afraid of Arya. 

From his experiences, she had reason to be. 

He hadn't known that Robert and Ned were going to meet with an unfortunate “accident.” She hadn't known that Joffrey was going to be poisoned at the party. She had tried to keep him from going but the petulant little prick hadn't listened and now he was dead. From then on, Cersei had had even more reason to make Sansa pay. She hadn't cared that Sansa had had nothing to do with it. It had turned from a simple hostage situation to a familial vendetta. 

He had suggested that Osney try to seduce her to gain her trust. He had handed her to Cersei in the first place.

Osney had had no idea that he had been set up.

When Sandor had seen Osney at the Lannisport on a date with her, something about her had made him snap. He had thought that he didn’t want to be around Osney anymore and that it was Osney that he had been mad at, but it was himself. He had met her eyes at their table and suddenly, he wanted to take it all back. He had gone to the bar and had tried to drink his fleeting moment of regret away, but it turned out that it was not as fleeting as he had thought. 

He didn't want any of this to happen to her. 

He had yanked her aside and snarled drunkenly into her face. Some shit about Osney being a monster. It had all been lies. It was him who had been the monster.

At the party, he had been on edge the moment he had stepped foot into Gendry's house. He had bee lined for the bar. He had known that Osney was going to use the party as a cover for kidnapping Sansa. Joffrey had been a convenient surprise. No one had noticed her absence in the turmoil of Joffrey clawing out his own throat. He had tried to warn the little wolf when he had heard the Tyrell slut scream bloody murder. 

Arya had bolted and so had Sandor. 

He had tried to intercept Osney before he had gotten to Sansa but Osney was a true predator. He had drugged Sansa and dragged her back to Cersei's when no one was watching. Sandor had been right after them but not before he had seen the other red-headed girl that was hanging around Robb and Jon. 

He had seen his window and he had taken it. She had been fiery and had bitten his hand and hard but he had gotten her into his trunk before she could fight back anymore. 

It had been a perfect switch for Sansa and it had made Osney look beyond incompetent. Sandor had managed to get Sansa out of the basement without Cersei or Osney noticing and brought in Ygritte. 

Cersei had been so drunk he was amazed that she had even known the difference. 

How could you have ever known?

…........................................

Sandor made it to a bus station in Riverrun and dug the bus fare out of his pockets. He waited on one of the benches and steeped in misery and remorse. 

He's not the captain for no reason...

Gendry's words echoed in his head. He knew damn well that Jaime Lannister was not going to be an easy opponent. That pretty fuck was cocky for a reason. He was good and this was a fight Sandor might not walk away from. 

He found he didn't care. He had to try to eliminate the threat that he had placed over Sansa's head. 

When the bus came for King's Landing, Sandor got on without looking back. He felt his angry bitter resolve come back to him. He was suddenly The Hound again. He even made a small child cry. He sat down in his seat and felt his head swim. He hadn’t been eating or sleeping the way he should have been. If he was going to be in peak form, he would need some rest and nourishment.

Sandor laid his head back and allowed himself to fall into a fitful sleep. 

Sansa had finally run out of tears for her father and brother. She was exhausted from emotion and had laid back in bed to sleep. Sandor had combed through her hair when he was sure that she had fallen asleep, reveling in the smooth silkiness of it. 

She had turned to him as he was about to drift off to the scent of her.

Pears.

“Don't stop,” she had requested.

“Stop what?” he had mumbled half asleep. 

“Playing with my hair. It feels good.” She had nuzzled her scalp against his hand. 

He had smiled. 

He had continued to comb through her hair when she rolled over on her side and curled up under his arm. “I'm glad you were here.”

With her head at an awkward angle for his hand to reach her hair, he had rubbed her back in slow soothing circles. She draped an arm around his torso and pulled herself flush against his side and curled a leg around his. 

“Thank you, Sandor,” she said before she placed a sweet kiss on his jaw. 

He had kissed her forehead and suddenly they were kissing deeply and passionately. 

She was reaching up to cup his ruined face and his hand was on her back urging her into him. She gasped as his hand dipped lower than he had honestly intended it to and grazed her thinly clad ass cheek. 

He broke the kiss and tried to give his version of an apology. “I didn't mean to-”

Her lips cut him of and she was wrapping herself tighter around him. He felt himself become caught up in her encouragement and rolled her onto her back. He was leaning over her and kissing her fiercely. She was meeting every one of his movements with an equaled unbridled passion.

He couldn't believe this was happening. 

She tore away from his kiss breathless. “We were interrupted earlier,” she said simply. 

Sandor didn’t have to fight to grasp her meaning. He grabbed the box of condoms off of the bed at their feet and quickly discarded her panties. She spread her legs nervously and he found himself unable to look away at what she was offering him. He stroked her appreciatively and found her slick and hot. 

He tore the box of condoms open and freed his painful erection from his pants. He laid on his back and rolled the condom on with only minor fumbling. He positioned himself on top of her and hesitated before he entered her.

“Are you sure?”

“I... I don’t know.”

She was trembling underneath him. She was a virgin. She was pure and he was evil and he was about to take something else away from her. 

He had cursed himself for getting soft at the thought of ripping away another piece of her innocence. 

“We won't do this now.”

“I'm so sorry Sandor! I didn't mean-”

“It's ok.” He had shucked the condom off of his limp dick and gone into the bathroom. 

He had slammed the door. 

He threw the condom away, unused and splashed cold water on his face. 

Why had he hesitated? Because he fucking cared. 

Sandor woke with a start as they entered the capital; his dream still vivid in his mind. The bus slowed and pulled into the station. He cracked his stiff neck and got his things together before he pushed past everyone trying to gather their things from their seats. 

He knew damn well where Jaime Lannister lived and made his way across town to the uptight pretentious neighborhood of Casterly Rock. 

Sandor had a sudden thought. 

The Goat. The police station.

He could go get his GTO from the impound lot. Somehow. Maybe. 

Its just a car. Don’t fuck this up over a car.

The money. 

Don't fuck this up over money. This is about Sansa.

Sandor walked across downtown King's Landing and reached the uppity neighborhood by midnight. He looked around vaguely for a car to steal once he had gone into Jaime's house and eliminated him. He found a nice Aston Martin in one of the driveways close to Jaime's house but knew that it would be far to flashy and noticeable. 

There was a dime-a-dozen Mercedes in one of the driveway's about a block to the east of Jaime's house. He wasn’t Gendry but he was confident that he could unlock and hotwire it with little problem. It was a slightly older model that wouldn’t boast the high-tech computer operated system. 

Sandor had started to slip away from his recon work when a voice rang through the silent night air with a huff of smoke emanating from his own twisted lips. 

“I can't say that I’m surprised to see you here, Clegane.”


	41. Opening the Door to Hell

Xxxxi. Tyrion

 

“I can't say that I’m surprised to see you here, Clegane.”

 

Clegane's gun was drawn before Tyrion could have believed was possible. For such a huge and un-stealthy car thief, he was lightening quick to pull that .45 of his. Tyrion let the lungful of smoke he was holding in out with a huff.

 

He may have also possibly pissed himself.

 

The short stub of the joint was burning his fingers so he dropped what was left off of the porch. He gave a small cough and Sandor lowered his gun.

 

Clegane looked around at the house and at Tyrion on it's front porch. “You live here?”

 

“No. I enjoy smoking illegal drugs on strangers' front porches. They wake up with roaches scattered around their beautiful suburban homes and ponder the world they live in. I watch from across the street as they interrogate and beat their teenage sons and daughters. I usually masturbate furiously while I watch.”

 

Sandor dropped his gun to his side and Tyrion could vaguely make out the smirk in the gloom. “Your mouth is going to get you shot one day.”

 

“Ahh, but not today I hope. You can put your gun away, Hound.”

 

Sandor didn't protest to the nickname and holstered his gun. He started towards Tyrion and Tyrion tensed. He remembered what this beast had done to Ramsay and Ramsay had been armed and full sized. Sandor climbed the steps to the porch and sniffed the air. “Was that weed?”

 

“It was a stressful couple of days. How is Sansa?”

 

Clegane reached the porch and leaned against one of the posts. He shrugged. “How would you be?”

 

Tyrion nodded. He couldn't imagine the state Sansa was in. At least she was with her family. Tyrion had a good idea of why Clegane was here in Casterly Rock but he was still a bit curious as to why he wasn’t with Sansa. “Won't she be needing some comforting?”

 

“She has her family. The little wolf, Edmure and Blackfish are in Riverrun. She has support.” He had spit out Edmure and Bryndon names out with a bit too much venom.

 

Tyrion laughed. “So her uncles weren't happy to learn that The Hound has been fucking their sweet little niece?”

 

Clegane shot Tyrion a threatening look through narrowed eyes. “I haven't been _fucking_ her,” he spat through clenched teeth.

 

“My mistake. _Making love_ to their sweet little niece...”

 

Clegane snorted into the cold night air with a plume of steam. It had started to snow. “What would you know about love, imp?”

 

Tyrion really hated that name. “More than you may think, _Hound_.”

 

“Did you fall in to deep with one of The Stag's whores?”

 

_Tysha had never been a whore._

 

“I'm under the impression that you were no stranger to their company either,” Tyrion shot up at him. “Come on inside. It's much too cold out here.”

 

“I have to go.”

 

“I will tell you that I know exactly why you are here. In an effort to save my life, there is something I would like to discuss with you... inside... where it is warm... and there is more weed.” Tyrion smiled up at him.

 

Clegane seemed to fight with himself before he pushed himself off of the porch and went to follow Tyrion inside the house.

 

“The company will be nice, no matter how surly. I miss Pod for more than just transportation.” Tyrion felt the stinging in his eyes and a tightness in his chest.

 

He opened the front door and relished in the blast of warm air and light. They walked into the cozy living room and Tyrion motioned to the armchairs by the fire. “Bourbon? Scotch? A spliff?”

 

“No.”

 

“Come on! There is no ambush. No trap. No reason to keep your wits about you so lets lose some!”

 

“What kind of scotch?”

 

“Glenlivet.”

 

Sandor nodded. “Neat.”

 

Tyrion moved to his bar and poured himself and Sandor glasses of the smoky libation sans ice and water. The man was a connoisseur. Tyrion pulled the stationary box that he kept his stash and paraphernalia in out from under the bar and headed over towards the fire juggling his loot. He set a glass of the amber liquid down in front of Sandor and sank down into his own chair.

 

He had always delighted in the fact that the stationary box was a Winnie the Pooh card box that had once been his sister's when she was little. There were still stickers that she had applied along the lip of the lid. Tigger chased Piglet and Eeyore mourned his tail while Pooh was head first, ass up in a jar of honey.

 

_Oh bother, I'm out of bud._

 

“So what where you wanting to say?” Sandor said as he swirled the scotch around in the glass and sniffed at the vapors appreciatively.

 

“I know why you are here instead of in Riverrun with Sansa,” Tyrion said as he pinched off little buds and began grinding them up clumsily. He removed a Tops paper from the packet and began trying to twist the paper around the large chunks of marijuana.

 

Sandor snatched the tray of contraband from him. “And why is that?” He tapped the sticky green leaves from the rumpled paper and began tearing them into smaller pieces.

 

Tyrion watched as his gigantic fingers deftly set to processing the buds into a finely ground scattering of machine ground filler.

 

“You want to finish off the Lannister line and therefore the threat to Sansa,” Tyrion said as Sandor took a morsel of the glittering green leaves and put it into his mouth. He chewed and tasted before he pulled a fresh paper out of the pack and folded it into a small envelope.

 

“Ok.” He sprinkled some of the ground weed into the miniature envelope and began forming it into a tight perfectly cylindrical cigarette.

 

“You want to kill Jaime. You want to keep Sansa safe.”

 

Sandor licked the glue on the paper gently and curled it in on itself until it was formed into something that could be packaged into a pack of twenty.

 

“Ok.” Sandor was keeping his eyes on his task and was avoiding an answer. He handed the near perfect joint to Tyrion.

 

“You don’t strike me as the mellow hippie type, Clegane,” he said looking in awe at the perfect joint. He pulled experimentally and found a perfect resistance. There was an air-flow but it wasn’t loose and falling apart.

 

“I was twenty something too. The whores taught me well.”

 

“Sansa is a lucky woman.”

 

Sandor sighed irritably. “Sansa isn't a whore. They didn’t teach me shit about fucking. Besides, I doubt she does drugs. I'd get stoned with the little wolf before I would with the little bird.”

 

“Your pet names for the girls are adorable.”

 

“Well, the little bitch kinda has helped me out.”

 

“You should never call your lady love a _bitch_.”

 

“Not Sansa!” he said a bit too defensively as Tyrion lit and inhaled the bootleg cigarette. “Her cunt of a sister. Arya.”

 

“I digress. So Jaime?....” he said on the exhale.

 

“I know you and Jaime are close.”

 

“Were close. _Were,_ ” Tyrion said as he sipped his own scotch. “It made his betrayal even more bitter.”

 

“I'll bite.”

 

“You will remember quite clearly the whore that I was married to... I believe you were the first one to have your turn with her when my father found out she was only a whore. Am I wrong?”

 

Sandor met his eyes but didn't say anything.

 

“Right, well she was just my brother's idea of a cruel joke. I'm not even upset with you. I'm just glad you were the first up to bat.” Tyrion raised his glass in a mock toast and downed what was left. He was feeling sufficiently stoned and drunk. “Did you know that Jaime knew what was happening to Sansa? He knew and he didn't care. He doesn't care about anyone but himself and Cersei.”

 

“I had a feeling.”

 

Tyrion's loneliness was palpable. He passed the joint to Sandor who, to his astonishment, took it and inhaled deeply. “You know Clegane, my family has never done anything but belittle me. Pfft.... be _little._ Get it?”

 

Sandor blew the smoke out of his nostrils and smiled. “I know the feeling,” he said gesturing the ember of the smoldering cigarette towards his scars.

 

“I hold no love for them. Any of them,” he said as Sandor puffed heavily on the joint and passed it back to him. “My family is who I make it. You may not trust me,” he said dragging deeply himself. “But you could, you know.”

 

Sandor huffed the smoke out of his lungs and looked at Tyrion with a blank stare for a few moments. Clegane swirled his scotch and finished off the last measurement in one gulp. “I can respect that.”

 

“I would hate for you to lose Sansa the way I lost Tysha.”

 

Sandor smacked his lips and stared at the floor for a long time before he raised his head. “It was me, you know?”

 

Tyrion's confused expression must have encouraged him.

 

“I was the one who picked Sansa out of the Stark women. Cersei wanted Catelyn to use as a hostage against Ned but I said to go for Sansa. Catelyn is too savvy. Sansa was naïve and ripe for the charms of Osney. It was almost too easy. Besides, a man's child, especially his virgin daughter, is a much more compelling incentive than a seasoned wife.”

 

“Why not Arya?”

 

Sandor actually laughed. “Have you _met_ Arya?”

 

“Good point.”

 

A length of silence stretched on before Tyrion broke it.

 

“So, what? You blame yourself? That was a call anyone would have made. It's not like you _knew_ her.”

 

“She said she loves me.”

 

“Congratulations! Isn't that what you wanted?”

 

“Where is the scotch?”

 

“Refill?” Tyrion needed one too.

 

Sandor held up his glass and Tyrion hobbled over to the bar to refresh the drinks. He came back with ample fingers in both of their glasses and handed Clegane his.

 

“I fail to see the issue. Other than-”

 

“I have to tell her.”

 

Tyrion nodded knowingly. Booze and weed had turned this into a therapy session from the Twilight Zone. “And she wouldn't forgive you?”

 

“Why would she?”

 

“Because you love each other. Does she know you love her?”

 

He sucked back the scotch in two gulps. “I just want her safe.”

 

“Then you must do what needs to be done to keep her safe. Sansa is a lovely girl who I hold much more affection for than my poor belated sister. I was quite fond of Jon, you know?”

 

“The Targaryen bastard?””

 

“The one your brother beat to a pulp, yes. You know Jaime is extremely dangerous?”  
  


Sandor paused. He knew what he was going into. “I know.”

 

“And you are going in blind.”

 

“Nothing will sate me but Sansa's well being.”

 

“You have opened the door to Hell, my friend. God have mercy on you. No one else will.”

 

“I'm not a pious man.”

 

“Nor am I. But it is not a god's forgiveness you will need.”

 

Sandor was walking into his own personal Hell. Whether he was an atheist or not, it wasn’t only a God's forgiveness that he needed.

 

He needed his own and he needed Sansa's. He had to stop blaming himself.

 

Tyrion was too educated to be a theist. He had never held to any sect like his family had. Maybe he was above it, but he had always thought that there was something to be said to holding to the old gods. The simple god or gods.

 

“I just want her safe. I'll consider any forgiveness a bonus.”

 


	42. The Hound is Human

Xxxxii. Arya

 

“Arya, wake up.”

 

“Go away, stupid.”

 

“Arya, you have to go help Sansa. Clegane left.” Gendry's words sunk in.

 

“What do you mean he left?”

 

“I don’t know. He just stomped down the steps and said he had stuff to go do.”

 

“What the fuck is that about?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Arya lifted herself off of the couch with a huff. “I knew he was an asshole.”

 

“Hey, I still put up with you.”

 

Arya shot Gendry an ugly look and punched him in the shoulder. She got up and went up the stairs. She opened the door to Sansa's room and went into the bathroom. Sansa was laying back in the water, staring at her bent knees.

 

Her head shot up when she heard someone come in. “Hey, is Sandor downstairs?”

 

“No.” Arya saw her sisters shoulders fall. “He left. He told Gendry he had stuff to take care of.”

 

“What does that even mean? Why would he leave?”

 

_She could venture a guess._

 

“I don’t know. Did you guys fight?”

 

“No! No, I- I might have said something, though...”

 

“What did you say?” Arya said as she knelt by the tub and refreshed the hot water.

 

Sansa blushed. “You can't judge me, ok?”

 

Arya raised an eyebrow questioningly. “I already do.”

 

Sansa smiled and splashed Arya with bubbly water. “Hey! Fine, what did you say to him?”

 

“I told him I love him.” Sansa blushed furiously. She had always blushed so easily.

 

“Wow. You know, fuck him all you need to, but _love_?”

 

“Arya! I haven't had sex with him!”

 

“So you or him just carry condoms in the bag that you have been sharing for a week? Did you blow one of them up to make balloon animals?”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“One of them was missing, Sansa. I don't care and it's not like I'm going to tell anyone.”

 

Sansa looked away as tears leaked out of her eyes. “We were going to once. He- He stopped though.”

 

“Sansa, he's an asshole. What sane guy would turn you down?”

 

Sansa started to cry earnestly. “He's really not. He just doesn't want me, I guess.”

 

Arya hated to be a bitch right now but she had to know. “Did you really think that you and The Hound were going to run away into the sunset after all of this?”

 

“No, but I thought that maybe....”

 

“You have been through a lot, Sansa. Maybe all of this feels so real is because he was rescuing you along the way. Like a knight in shining armor thing.”

 

“That's what he said,” Sansa whispered.

 

Arya sighed. “Let's get you clean and shave off the leg warmers.”

 

Sansa smiled feebly. “Thank you, Arya.”

 

Arya helped Sansa get clean, hair-free and dressed. They took their time and were careful not to jostle Sansa's hand too much. Even still, when they pulled one of Sandor's shirts that he had missed over Sansa's head, she whimpered in pain a few times.

 

Arya could tell that the shirt had been worn before. It had a vague cologne and manly smell to it. It was actually quite pleasant. Sansa laid back on the bed ignoring her wet hair, and curled up in the scent of him. She curled up under the covers and breathed deeply into the cotton.

 

“Do you want to come down for some food?” She looked ten pounds lighter than the last time Arya had seen her. She knew that Sansa was starving. “There is pizza and wings. And beer. If the dudes have left us any.”

 

Sansa smiled. “Will you bring some up here? I don't really feel like talking to everyone.”

 

“Sure! Hey, wanna watch a movie?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Arya bounced down the stairs and darted into the kitchen. Half of the pizza was still left and there were a few wings and pieces of cheesy bread. She snatched it all up and grabbed one of the six packs of beer. She peeked into the living room but everyone was just watching the games.

 

Edmure got up and started towards the kitchen. “You guys better have saved me some of that pizza.”

 

Arya smirked evilly and left through the other end of the kitchen. She looped around and jogged up the stairs as she juggled the greasy delights. She opened the door and closed it with her foot before she dropped everything.

 

“Did you assholes leave me _anything_?!” They heard their uncles voice ring out from the living room. Sansa's eyes had gone wide but she quickly broke into laughter. Arya joined her as she crossed over to the bed and sat down everything.

 

When they caught their breath, Arya opened the boxes and dove into a slice of pizza. It was perfect. It had all kinds of shit on it.

 

“Ew! I hate black olives.” Sansa picked off the offending topping and put them in the box next to Arya. Arya picked them up greedily and stuffed them in her mouth.

 

“What kind of movie do you want to watch?” Arya asked as she flipped on the flat-screen and the DirecTv box. The options were almost limitless.

 

“Something funny. It feels good to laugh.”

 

Arya searched through the movies that were on while Sansa cracked two of the bottles of beer. Arya took hers and gulped down the foamy, yeasty brew. She had forgotten how hungry she had been. She grabbed a cheese stick and flipped until she found a movie that was funny and not in anyway touchy to any of the shit Sansa had been through.

 

She didn’t want to get Sansa drunk and then remind her of everything she was trying to forget.

 

They watched Half Baked and ate their way through all of the pizza and wings. They laughed and forgot their problems for a little while.

 

“I would kill for a joint,” Sansa said as she wiped a tear of laughter away from her eye.

 

“What did you just say?” Arya asked incredulously.

 

“What? I'm not allowed to smoke too? Everyone else does.”

 

“Why didn't you say so?”Arya got up and went into Edmure's bedroom. She opened the tin on his dresser and grabbed one of his glass pipes out and a clean screen. She grabbed the little baggie of weed and went back to Sansa's room.

 

“Where did you get that?” Sansa asked.

 

“Edmure and I smoked a bowl this morning. He made the mistake of letting me see his stash.”

 

Sansa giggled and took the paraphernalia from Arya. She broke up the buds and packed the pipe over the screen. Arya dug in the pocket of her jeans and produced a lighter.

 

Sansa took it. “You really should stop smoking cigarettes.”

 

Arya gaped at her. “What do you mean? I don't.”

 

“Come on, Arya. You have since you were sixteen.”

 

“How did you know?”Arya asked as she lit the bowl and let Sansa pull deeply. She sputtered and coughed immediately.

 

“Like Edmure would buy crappy weed.” She took the bowl from away from a gasping Sansa and pulled softly on the pipe. It tickled and she struggled to hold it in.

 

She exhaled before she coughed and felt the drug rush to her head. Sansa giggled and took the pipe back. “I've smelled it on you before. The cigarette smoke. You are lucky Jon didn't notice.”

 

Arya's heart constricted painfully in her chest and she thought for a moment that she might cry.

 

_Sansa doesn’t know about Jon?_

 

Arya thought of the day after the party. She had crept out of her and Jon's motel room and gotten cigarettes and honey buns. She had gotten Jon his favorite chips. He hadn't chided her about smoking too much. He was more pissed that she had left him. Arya certainly wasn't going to tell Sansa now. Not when she was finally smiling and laughing. “Yeah. I guess I was. Anyway, I hardly ever smoke.”

 

“Do you think it would bother Gendry if he knew?”

 

“He does know.”

 

“And it doesn’t bother him?”

 

“He gives me shit sometimes, but otherwise no, I don’t guess it does.”

 

“I wonder if it would bother Sandor if her knew I liked smoking weed?”

 

“Pfft. I hate to think of the drugs that nut is on.”

 

“I never saw him do any and we were attached at the hip for like, a week.”

 

“Shocking.”

 

“He's a lot different than most people would guess. You won't believe what happened to me at Olive Garden,” Sansa said with a wide remembering grin.

 

Arya listened to Sansa tell stories of the things she and Clegane had been through together as the girls smoked another bowl.

 

Buying tampons, buying condoms, making out but pulling away when Sansa offered herself to him, getting drunk and cleaning wounds, taking her to a nice hotel, consoling her when he told her about their dad and Robb. Sansa talked and talked. She had said earlier that she didn’t think that Sandor even wanted her but after an hour of girl talk, Arya was convinced otherwise. Sandor wanted her bad. She had seen the way he had acted after Ramsay and Petyr took her from Winterfell.

 

“Sansa, I wouldn’t worry about him wanting you. You didn’t see the way he acted when he found you missing in Winterfell. He was panicking. Why would he come after you if he didn't want you?”

 

“Do you think I should ask Gendry about it?”

 

“You could. But I don't think he would tell you anything. They've got this bizarre new bro-mance and I'm sure that is breaking some kind of guy code.”

 

“I'm worried about him. I wish I knew where he had gone.” Sansa stared at her hands in her lap. “I miss him already,” she said as she looked up and smiled meekly.

 

“He'll be back,” Arya said with confidence.

 

_He better be._

 

 


	43. Playlist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a collection of songs that I have been listening to while I write. Take it or leave it. I'm sorry that It wasn't a real chapter but music has been playing a very important role in my writing of this story.
> 
> Hope you can see it... uh... somewhere...

Ok...

 

Someone said something about needing a soundtrack to this story (and comparing this story to a Tarantino flick!!!) Music has always played a big part in my writing of this and my newest venture, There is Something Beautiful and Tragic in the Fallout. Every time I sit down and see where these stories take me, there is always awesome music and sometimes a little (or a lot) of booze involved. Because it has been so influential, I was going to post my final “chapter” as a playlist of all of the music that I listened to on repeat while I was tapping this clusterfuck out. I wont tell you what song fit what moment. If you are that caught up in it, as I was, then I think it would be way cooler for you to place the song with the moment yourself....

 

Everyone is different.

 

This was a huge mess. I had no idea when I laid in bed, with my wine, where this was going to lead.... I can promise you that every time I sat down at the end of my long day, I was just as surprised by what I wrote as you were.

 

Sometimes, as you all saw, I wrote myself into a corner and had to babble my way out of it. Haha. One thing I have kinda liked was that I haven’t proofread or revised any of the chapters that I have written. I jot them down and as soon as I am done and around a Wi-fi hotspot, I post the shit. Lol.

 

I know that if I go over it with a fine tooth comb then I will lose something.

 

Everyone who has given this story a comment or a kudos or even a second glance... it has been very appreciated. It's always cool when your hobby is appreciated.

 

 

This is in no particular order:

 

Summertime Sadness – Lana Del Rey

Cast That Devil Out – Abbie May

Massive Attack - Angel

The Kills – U.R.A Fever

The Kills – Black Balloon

Jen Titus – My Name is Death

Thievery Corporation – Until the Morning

Spaceship – Puddle of Mudd

Doomtree – Gimme the Go

I’m Not Over – Carolina Liar

Clap for the Killers – Street Sweeper Social Club

Top of the World – All American Rejects

Fade to Black – Apocalyptica

Morcheeba – Enjoy the Ride

Morcheeba – Gained the World

Agnes Obel – The Curse

Alt-j – Fitzpleasure

Monster and Men – King and Lionheart

Wake Me Up – Avicii

Chalk Outline – Three Days Grace

Fix Me – 10 Years

Counting Stars – One Republic

Romeo and Juliet – Dire Straights

Sinnerman – Nina Simone

Stay – Rihanna

Teardrop – Massive Attack

Ane Brun – These Days

10 Years – Beautiful

Burning Down the House – The Used

New Order – Someone Like You

Monster – Kanye West

E.T. - Katy Perry

Wings of a Butterfly – H.I.M.

Wicked Game – H.I.M.

 

Eclectic. I know.

 

 

 


	44. Two Options

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys.... dont hate me.
> 
> I know this took a super long time to get posted. I just moved to another state and that was a nightmare i had NOT anticipated.... also, i didnt know what the fuck i was going to do with this. (thats actually the real reason.)
> 
> Thanks all for being patient and for reading!
> 
> (I knew i should have never spoiled everyone with the quick updates)

Xxxxiii. Sandor

 

Sandor spit a glob of blood and spit at Jaime as soon as the last blow to his mouth had possibly loosened a tooth. A splatter of bright red landed on Jaime's white coat. He smiled his bloody smile as Jaime leaned in to say something else. Sandor thrust his head forward as hard as he could and slammed it into Jaime's. Jaime recoiled with a cut eyebrow pouring fresh blood and took a few moments to retaliate. He sent another well aimed hook into Sandor's jaw that made Sandor see stars.

 

The throbbing in his temple was causing a ringing in his ears that he couldn’t stop but he heard Loras' and Garlan's laughter on either side of him anyway.

 

“Why Jaime? What was the point in all of this?”

 

Jaime shrugged. “It was a simple power struggle. Robert and Ned had exceeded theirs. My father and I were bored with being on a lower rung of the hierarchy. Robert was easy enough to remove and Ned wasn't a huge obstacle. The problem with Ned was that he had so many to take on after him. Robb, Jon and Theon were all smart young men who, together, would have been a formidable business opponent. He has a business savvy wife who was always the little voice in his ear, not to mention the two lovely and charming daughters.”

 

“So you have never met Arya then?”

 

Jaime just smiled. “And Robert had nothing.”

 

“Because Joffrey wasn't his.”

 

“I had a feeling you knew. You were a little too concerned with Sansa Stark at that party while Joffrey lay dying, I'm told. What is your interest in the girl?”

 

Sandor ignored his question. “You are one twisted fuck, you know that Jaime?”

 

“What would you know of sisterly love? What happened to your sister again, Clegane?”

 

At the mention of his sister, The Hound was in full effect. He could smell the blood pulsing behind the throats he was having a hard time restraining himself from ripping out.

 

“I know I wouldn’t have knocked mine up if my brother hadn’t killed her first,” he snarled through his teeth.

 

Jaime smirked that cocky grin at him. “No, you just let her get killed. Would you let the same thing happen to your new squeeze?”

 

Sandor was very careful to keep the emotion out of his face. If he didn’t make it out of here, he didn’t want Jaime to think that Sansa was in anyway special to him. “What new _squeeze_?”

 

_Keep her safe._

 

It was her safety he valued now. Not his own.

 

When he had killed his brother at Winterfell, he had felt a soul crushing lack of purpose. He had avenged his sister but it hadn't brought her back. The sweet and innocent little girl, the only person to show him any tenderness, was gone and so was his driving purpose.

 

_Not the only person._

 

He had suddenly realized that there was another sweet girl whose innocence had allowed her to see past what everyone else saw. He couldn't save his sister but he could keep Sansa safe.

 

Only, he hadn’t. Her innocence had been ripped away from her violently and in one of the most perverse ways. She had been tortured and molested by some creep who wanted her to call him 'daddy.' He had been willing to take a piece of her innocence. He didn’t want to hurt her and he didn't want her to call him 'daddy.' It was his own name he had wanted from her lips. He wanted to have her and he had wanted to be something that was special to her.

 

He had never been special to anyone.

 

This girl had crawled under his skin from day one and stayed there. She had given him insecurities and vulnerabilities. She made him want to be something he knew he could never be and have something that was never his and never would be. She _was_ a vulnerability and now this sister-fucker meant to exploit it.

 

“You can't tell me that you wanted to help Sansa just to be nice. I would take you for the type to think with your dick, Hound.”

 

Sandor shrugged his shoulders. “She was a good fuck.”

 

“Was she? Maybe I should test drive her when we are done here.”

 

Sandor tensed and thought about ripping out this assholes throat. Jaime noticed his reaction and smiled maliciously as he pulled his knife from it's pouch. “You didn't think I would let her go unscathed, did you?”

 

Sandor was having a hard time breathing all of a sudden. He pulled against his bonds in an effort to get his hands on Jaime and shut him up forever. “She hasn’t done a goddamn thing to you.”

 

“No, but you have. I didn't want her hurt either. I tried talking Cersei out of hurting the poor girl once. My sister didn’t listen to me.”

 

“You talk to much, you know that?”

 

Jaime smirked at Sandor and looked at Loras and Garlan. They laughed.

 

“And where the fuck do you two kids fit into all of this?” he said craning his neck around to look at the two pretty blondes. “How did your butt buddy feel about you killing his brother?” he spat at Loras.

 

Loras narrowed his eyes and snatched Sandor by the hair at the crown of his head. “Maybe you don’t remember fucking up my passing yards record. I sat out the championship game because some savage threw a goddamn bar stool into my back.”

 

Sandor smiled and couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his bloody lips. “This is about football? You hop into bed with the Lannisters about a championship game?”

 

Garlan came over and shoved Loras away from Sandor. “You are letting him get to you. Go get a fucking drink or something,” he shot to his younger hot headed brother. Loras moved over to a table stocked with crystal and amber liquids that Sandor would have given his left arm for. Not his right. He couldn’t shoot for shit with his left. “You've got a lot of nerve, Clegane. Did you think you could take on the Lannisters and the Tyrells all by yourself? And for what? A _girl_?”

 

_They weren’t going to let this go...._

 

“Pussy is pussy,” Sandor said as he shrugged against his bonds.

 

Jaime and Garlan smiled to each other. Loras returned with a glass of whiskey in his hand and joined in on the smiling. “So what was all this trouble for? If I find out that you were working for the Starks,” Jaime said as he waved a large pistol in Sandor's face. “And that you are the reason my sister is dead, I'll kill you slowly after I let you watch me fuck Sansa into the ground.”

 

Sandor narrowed his eyes maliciously. “Not really your type, is she? I mean you aren’t related at all.”

 

Jaime straightened up and brought the butt of his .45 around in a wide arch and smashed it into Sandor's jaw again with a sickening crunch. “Where is Robb Stark, Clegane?”

 

“What are you talking about? Robb is dead.”

 

Jaime smirked down at Sandor. “I think it is safe to assume that we both know that isn’t true.”

 

Sandor shuffled through his reeling brain and sought for anything to indicate that Robb was alive but came up empty. No, Robb was dead. He had died in the hospital. Sandor had held Sansa as she cried for him. “He died in the hospital. What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

“Not what we heard,” Garlan interjected.

 

“Why the fuck are you even here?” Sandor shot at Garlan and Loras with a spray of blood and saliva. Loras recoiled like the pansy he was but Garlan just looked down at the spattering on his shoes.

 

“Jeyne seemed to have a different idea.”

 

“Am I supposed to know who the fuck that is?”

 

“It was Robb's knocked up girlfriend and you goddamn well know it!” Loras shouted in Sandor's ear. Garlan shot Loras a dirty look but Sandor was guessing that it wasn’t because of Loras' unethical treatment of their prisoner.

 

“Was? As in, no longer knocked up. I'm all for women's lib. It's their choice,” Sandor shrugged.

 

“You have a smart mouth, Clegane. She _was_ and no longer _is_ because by bastard brother killed her before she could be questioned,” Garlan said as he shot Loras another dirty look.

 

“No body fucking told me-” Loras started defensively.

 

“We could have used her to get to Robb _and_ to Sansa!” Garlan shot back.

 

Sandor remembered suddenly about Sansa telling him that Jeyne was her best friend and Robb's girlfriend. Had she even known they were going to have a baby? “So you just want any Stark you can get your hands on because you are as bitter as your whore of a sister,” he sighed out in one long breath. “And these are what, your minions?”

 

“God you are an idiot, Hound,” Jaime laughed. “I don’t care about Sansa or Arya. I just want the players. The ones who pose a threat to me. Sansa would be a means to an end. The Tyrell's happen to owe me quite a lot of money at the moment,” he sneered to the cock sure brothers, making them both cow a bit in shame. “Once Ned was out of the way, my father and I told them that if they brought us Robb, Jon and Theon that the debt would be erased. Theon was taken care of at the party, as was Robb, or so we thought,” Jaime said raising his eyebrows skeptically. “That is, until Garlan escorted Jeyne back to Riverrun and heard a rumor of Robb being alive. She was on the brink of disclosing everything when Loras stabbed her. Repeatedly.”

 

“How the fuck was I supposed to know?” Loras screamed.

 

Jaime rolled his eyes. “Jon basically delivered himself to death's door. You see where honor got him?”

 

“We should have killed Sansa when we had the chance,” Loras smiled evilly at Sandor as Sandor tracked the movement of the shadows in the hall.

 

Sandor licked the blood from his teeth and sucked in a furious breath. “Loras, we go way back. I think you know how this goes.”

 

The three men smiled cockily to each other. Garlan and Loras he could understand. They were young and stupid, even if Loras had dealt with him before, but Jaime... Jaime was older than he was. Sure he had a silver spoon up his ass but he should know better.

 

“I don’t think you are in a position to tell us how this is going to go,” Loras said with that cock sucking grin.

 

“Ok, you little faggot. You have two options....”

 

Loras narrowed his eyes at Sandor and Sandor was rewarded with a glint of remembrance and fear.

 

“Option A: the easy way or Option B: the hard way,” Sandor said as the shadows shifted again.

 

_Quiet as a shadow._


	45. Bastards and Broken Things

Xxxxiiii. Arya

 

“I love you,” he murmured into her hair. She felt his hot moist breath against her ear and it made a shiver run down her spine.

 

Arya wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. His hand that wasn’t propping himself up ran down her side and brushed against the side of her breast. Her breathing hitched and encouraged him on. Brynden and Edmure were outside in Edmure's garage but Arys and Sansa were downstairs.

 

“I love you too,” she whispered as he broke the kiss and trailed his affection down her neck.

 

Arya moaned as quietly as she was able when he reached the tops of her breasts and slowly pulled down the neckline of her shirt and exposing her excited nipples to his eager mouth. Her back arched and pushed her taut nipple farther into his mouth. He sucked deeply at her flesh until a dull pain spread from his lips making her core throb with need.

 

As if reading her body like a book, his hand dipped from her chest to the waistband of her pants and began to fumble with the button on her jeans uncertainly. Her arms intertwined with his as she reached for his pants and found him fully erect and threatening to burst the seems of his cargo shorts.

 

Their actions became decided and desperate as they fumbled each other out of their confining clothes.

 

“Hurry,” she begged breathlessly as his lips found any bit of her flesh they could reach.

 

She lifted her hips so he could slide her pants and underwear down from her hips but before she could shuck them off completely, he raised up and brought her legs with him. He draped both legs over one shoulder and pushed into her wet heat. With her legs still pinned together by her jeans, the pressure was increased around his cock as he pulsed desperately and passionately into her.

 

The sensation of him filling the void of her body that only he could possibly fit, sent her body into a spasm of pleasure. She felt her climax quickly approaching as he rubbed into her with a steady rhythm. A cry of ecstasy escaped her but was quickly cut off by his gentle hand covering her mouth. His face went pained as his own peak took him. Her orgasm followed when he gave her a few more final thrusts making her writhe under him and moan loudly into his hand.

 

Their breathing labored, they rode out the waves of pleasure before he pulled out of her and laid snugly against her side. She felt his cum dripping out of her and thanked god she had begun taking birth control.

 

“Arya,” he said at her side. She looked over at him and found him staring intently at her.

 

“Yeah?”

 

His eyes brushed every inch of her face in a way that was almost tangible before settling back to her round brown eyes. “You are beautiful.”

 

She scoffed and was about to cut down his compliment when his hand shot up and gripped her chin insistently, forcing her to meet his serious gaze. “I mean it.”

 

Arya searched his face for any hint of deception but found nothing but sincerity. She should know he wasn’t taunting her or lying to her. Her insecurities about her looks were something she had always hidden well. It was hard to feel beautiful around her mother and her sister. They were tall but curvy and graceful and feminine. Their long red hair and big blue eyes reduced men to ashes with the smallest bat of eyelashes or the simplest flick of the shoulder. Arya was short but gangling and awkward. She was built like a thirteen year old boy with none of her mother's or sister's alluring curves. Her face was plain but not ugly.

 

She would hardly consider herself beautiful, but in this moment, locked in Gendry's adoring stare, she felt like she could be.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

 

“Marry me, Arya.” Again, there was no trace of humor.

 

Arya smiled. “We cant get married. We are too young.”

 

“It doesn’t have to be right away. Marry me.”

 

“Ask me in a year,” she said not unkindly.

 

“I'm going to remember that.”

 

She was sure he would.

 

After they dressed and cleaned themselves up, they made their way quietly downstairs. They were going to have to sneak past her uncles if they didn’t want to run into any resistance. As they made their way towards the back door, Arya noticed that Gendry had paused and was looking angrily into the living room. Sansa was nestled under Arys' arm and was cuddled up against him. They were both asleep.

 

“Come on,” Arya whispered as she tugged at Gendry's arm.

 

“What is she doing?” he asked as he turned his frown around to her.

 

“She's sleeping. I cant blame her.”

 

“Why is she cuddling up with Oakheart? She just met him.”

 

“No she didn’t. That's one of her friends' boyfriend.”

 

Gendry's eyes widened in shock. “And she is sleeping with him?”

 

Arya rolled her eyes. “She isn’t sleeping _with_ him. Come on!” She turned and darted on silent tip toes to the back door. Gendry followed her with surprisingly equally quiet steps. They got to the door and slipped out into the night and around the house.

 

“Arya,” Gendry whispered.

 

“Shh!” she said whirling on him.

 

“Arya!”

 

“I don’t want to get caught!” she hissed almost silently. “We already said we were going to do this. Let's go!” She had seen no light coming from the garage and knew that it must be closed. They wouldn’t have long after they started the car, that the noise would be noticed and investigated.

 

They crouched low just in case and jogged to Gendry's car and hopped in. Arya smiled triumphantly at Gendry who scowled through the windshield as he cranked the engine. He didn’t even look at her.

 

“What's your deal?”

 

Gendry laid his arm across the back of her seat and turned to look through the back window as he sped down the driveway and out onto the road.

 

“Nothing,” he said shortly.

 

“Something,” Arya persisted.

 

Gendry sighed as he slammed the gear shift into a higher gear and roared towards the interstate. “I just don’t understand what she was doing with him on the couch.”

 

“This again?”

 

“Yeah, Arya! What about Sandor?”

 

“What about him?”

 

Gendry turned to gape between her and the road. “What do you mean, _what about him_?!”

 

“Well, he isn’t here and she is pretty fragile at the moment. He was probably just comforting her. Look at what she has been through!”

 

“Why can't one of your uncles console her?”

 

“In case you haven't noticed, Blackfish isn’t very cuddly and Edmure is probably too stoned to think that she might need to someone to cling to. I don’t think they are that close anyway.”

 

Gendry took a deep breath. “Look, maybe she just doesn’t completely understand what he has been like since she was taken, but I am pretty sure that he would be pissed if he found them like that, not to mention really hurt. You didn’t see him go after Ramsay, Arya. It was scary.”

 

Arya was about to argue for her sister more but stopped and watched out of the window as the night flew by in a blur. The silence stretched out until she gave a small huff. “I know. She's just a mess. She needs someone to hold her together when he isn’t there.”

 

“We both know why he left her.”

 

“I know. I was just saying.”

 

“Yeah, lets just hope we don’t find him already dead,” Gendry muttered.

 

Arya felt a vague sinking in her chest. She didn't want him dead. Sansa needed him just like she needed Gendry.

 

“You know, I could always make the call,” she said quietly as she looked nervously down at her lap. She knew that he was going to grasp her meaning without any elaboration. She had brought up the possibility of calling in a favor but had been shot down immediately.

 

“Arya,” Gendry said slowly and dangerously. “We don’t need his help.”

 

“This is Jaime Lannister we are talking about.”

 

“I don’t give a shit who it is, Arya! I don’t want you calling him!”

 

“He could help!”

 

“Why are you so desperate to talk to him?”

 

“I'm not! I'm just saying, he could really help us! He's more dangerous than all of us combined! If he just looks at you the wrong way, you are dead.”

 

“No.”

 

Arya sulked as they neared Casterly Rock. She knew why he didn’t want her talking to Jaqen. He was jealous and that was it. It was stupid and he was just being stubborn. She would have felt a lot safer going into this situation with Jaqen H'ghar with them.

 

“How do you know where Jaime lives anyway?”

 

Gendry was still seething with the mention of Jaqen. He cast her an irritated sideways glace and took another deep breath. “I delivered a shipment there once. When everyone was on better terms. We aren’t going to Jaime's house though.”

 

“Where are we going then?” she asked.

 

“Tyrion's house. If you think I'm letting you go into that, then you are crazy.”

 

_Try and stop me._

 

It was late and Gendry had never been to Tyrion's house but he knew where it was. He pulled into the driveway and ushered Arya out of the car.

 

“Are you sure this is it?”

 

“Yeah, that's his car,” he said pointing to the car in the driveway.

 

They made their way up the front steps to the front door and Gendry knocked firmly on the door. The sound of voices came from the other side and Arya noticed the blinds at the window by the door flutter slightly before the door was opened suddenly.

 

Arya had hardly been expecting to be met by him, here, of all places.

 

Gendry paused mid-knock as Sandor glared down at them. His steely gray eyes darted between them as the scowl on his face deepened. “What the fuck are you two doing here?”

 

Arya sniffed the warm air coming from the house. “Is that weed?”

 

Sandor shot her a glare and gave his attention back to Gendry. “Why are you here?” Gendry asked in confusion.

 

“You didn’t know he was going to be here?” Arya asked him.

 

“I didn’t know,” Gendry said defensively.

 

“How did you find me?” Sandor asked skeptically.

 

“I didn’t know!” Gendry threw up his hands in a innocent gesture.

 

“Hey, Gendry!” Tyrion said as he stumbled between Sandor and the door frame. “Come on in! We are letting out all the heat.”

 

Sandor moved aside grudgingly to admit them into the house that wasn’t his own as Tyrion made his way to the chair by the fire. He picked up a box and started digging around in it. “Please, have a seat,” he said motioning to the chairs and the couch. Arya and Gendry went to sit on the couch while Sandor took the other arm chair. He snatched the box from Tyrion as the dwarf fumbled with a rolling paper and a small pile of pot. “You had better handle that, Clegane,” he conceded easily.

 

“What are you doing here?” Gendry said in confusion as he eyed Sandor's fingers working on forming a fat joint.

 

“What are you doing here? I told you that I had shit to take care of,” he said as he looked up defiantly from his task.

 

“So you left Sansa to go get drunk and stoned?” Arya seethed.

 

“He was going to steal my car,” Tyrion interjected. Sandor actually grinned.

 

_He must be really baked._

 

“What's the plan for Jaime's house?” Arya broke back in.

 

“Excuse me?” Sandor said as he carefully maintained a neutral expression.

 

“We didn’t come here to get stoned either,” Gendry said mildly. The two men looked at each other as something uniquely male passed between them. The moments stretched on in silence as they kept each others gaze until, finally, Sandor nodded and handed Gendry the joint.

 

“What was that?” Arya asked bluntly.

 

“Excellent!” Tyrion cheered.

 

“What are we doing?” Arya asked again. No one seemed to pay her any attention.

 

“Do you still have the guns?” Sandor asked Gendry.

 

“Of course,” Gendry said as he held in the huff of smoke seeping through his nostrils. He handed the joint to Sandor and Sandor took it and dragged long and deep. He smiled at Gendry. “Thanks.”

 

Arya knew he wasn’t referring to the spliff.

 

“Hey, why stop now?” Gendry said with a shrug.

 

Tyrion smiled widely as he took the joint from Sandor and dragged happily. He passed it to an irritated Arya. She kept silent and let the men have their exclusive bro-mantic conversation as she huffed the embers back to life.

 

“Get a room,” she mumbled.

 

….........................................

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Gendry hissed at her.

 

“I'm not staying with the Imp while you two get yourselves killed,” she whispered back.

 

“Arya, please. Go back to the car. Just get out of here!” he moaned desperately.

 

“I cant just sit around and wait for you,” he should know she wouldn't budge. He looked at her miserably as he internally relented.

 

“Stay out of the way, here,” he said trying to hand her one of his guns. She smirked and pulled open her jacket to reveal her own shoulder holster securing two 9mms under her arms.

 

He kissed her quickly. “Let's go before this idiot gets himself killed.” He shook his head. “The things we do for love,” he muttered.

 

The house was eerily silent and dark. There were no gunshots or shouts. No splatters of blood. Arya followed Gendry down a long hallway until they began to hear muffled voices. She could feel the tension radiating off of him in waves as they crept around the corner and found Sandor beaten, bleeding and tied to chair. Her heart leaped in her chest at the disheartening sight. Clegane was one of the scariest people she had ever met. To see him so defeated, was worrisome.

 

When he looked up into Jaime's face, though, the smirk on his face was far from defeated and she felt her courage rise.

 

“Option A: the easy way or Option B: the hard way,” Sandor said with a spark in his eyes.

 

Loras shifted uncomfortably and pulled his pistol, aiming it flush against Sandor's forehead.

 

“You know the irony in all of this, Hound? It was you who should have chosen the easy way but you chose the hard way the moment you helped Sansa away from Cersei. You should have just let it go,” Jaime said with humor in his voice.

 

Loras cocked his gun. “Don't let him start with this shit.”

 

Gendry looked back to her and held up his hand to stay her. He gave her hand a small squeeze and stepped out behind Loras.

 

Arya stayed in the shadows of the dark hallway as she watched Gendry push his gun against Loras' head and pull the trigger with no hesitation. She jumped and covered her ears as she watched a spray of blood catch Sandor in the face making him look even more lethal than he already was.

 

Gendry slipped his knife under Sandor's bonds in an instant and tossed him his extra gun just as Jaime pulled his own. Arya watched in silent horror as Jaime sent one bullet after another into Gendry and sent him reeling backwards until he fell with one last shot of his own, grazing Jaime on the shoulder.

 

Arya's heart broke as she bolted out of the shadows, drawing her own guns in the process. She heard more gunshots but couldn’t bring herself to look at anything but Gendry as she sank to her knees beside him.

 

Her heart was racing as she felt for a pulse in his bullet ridden body but before she could examine him further, she was forcefully lifted up into a strong pair of arms as the world blurred into one teary mess.

 

Her thoughts were singular.

 

_Gendry...._

 

 

 

 


	46. Can't Give You Up

 

Xxxxv. Sansa

 

“She won't let me in,” Sansa said sadly as she came down the staircase to meet Sandor, Arys and her uncles.

 

“She hasnt come out since we got back,” Sandor murmured. Sansa could tell that Sandor was taking Gendry's death pretty hard too.

 

“I'm going to take her something to eat,” Sansa said as she began to move towards the kitchen.

 

“Sansa, you should be resting,” Blackfish chided her.

 

“I'm okay, really,” she said as she made eye contact with Sandor. His eyes were lit up and shining. She felt the blush creep up her neck before she looked away and caught the suspicious look Edmure was shooting Sandor.

 

“Tell me again just what in the fuck she and Gendry were doing with you anyway,” Brynden spit at Sandor.

 

The soft admiring look fell from his face as The Hound made his appearance. “I didn't ask them to come. I don’t see you complaining about me doing all of the dirty work for Sansa. The Lannisters are gone. She is safe.”

 

“Please....” Sansa pleaded.

 

“I still cant quite grasp why you would go through all of this trouble for her when you didn’t know her,” Edmure chimed in as his narrowed eyes trained hard on Sandor.

 

Sandor sucked on his teeth in agitation and looked away. He was trying hard to stay patient.

 

“I don’t know why you are still here. You returned Sansa to us and we are grateful. Was there some kind of reward you were hoping to for?” Brynden asked bluntly.

 

“Stop!” Sansa gasped. She couldn’t understand why her uncles were being so cruel to Sandor.

 

“Sansa, please,” Brynden told her. She was being treated like she was a small child.

 

“You can take your reward and shove it up your ass, Tully,” Sandor said as he took a step towards her uncles. Edmure and Brynden were tensed. Sansa noticed as Edmure's hand went to his back. She could guess what he had hidden in his waistband.

 

“Maybe thats because you already got what you wanted,” Edmure said pointedly at Sandor as he quirked an eyebrow.

 

_What had Sandor wanted?_

 

Brynden fumed and looked to Sansa with a worried look on his face.

 

“Go fuck yourself, Edmure!” Sandor shouted. His eyes were shining again but it was with fury now. “That is exactly what I tried saving her from!”

 

“Stop!” Sansa begged as she felt the tears flow down her cheeks. She didn't understand what was happening. Sansa looked at Arys and silently begged him to help. He had been silent

 

“You said you wanted to return her to her family. Well, she's here. With her family,” Arys said softly at Sandor's shoulder. “And maybe suspicion isn't the best thanks for the man who brought her back,” he directed to her uncles.

 

“Like, we are supposed to believe that he did this out of the kindness of his heart?” Edmure scoffed. “What is going on with you and my niece, Hound?”

 

Sandor began to take a step towards the Tully duo. Edmure pulled a large pistol from his waistband as Arys grabbed Sandor by the elbows and pulled him back.

 

“No! No, please!” Sansa sobbed as she rushed towards her enraged and tensed uncle.

 

“Get out, Clegane,” Brynden said in a quiet but dangerous voice.

 

“You don’t understand!” Sansa said as she pulled on the sleeve of Edmure's arm raised and poised to shoot the love of her life.

 

“Come on,” Arys said as he pulled at Sandor. Sandor shrugged him off as he stared at her uncles furiously. He gave her one last look that was soft and broken before Arys got him turned around and walking towards the door.

 

She listened as Arys mumbled something to Sandor as he escorted him out of Riverrun. When she heard his stomping footsteps stop and the sound of the front door being slammed she whirled on her uncles.

 

“What is the matter with you?” she gasped. “Why would you treat him like that?”

 

“What did he do to you, Sansa?” Brynden asked slowly.

 

“What makes you think he did something to me?” she shot back as she began to cry fresh tears.

 

“Sansa, The Hound doesn’t do things for other people because he cares about them. Did he take advantage of you?” Edmure said softly.

 

“No!” Sansa said angrily.

 

“So he never touched you inappropriately?” Edmure asked gently as Arys walked back into the room.

 

Sansa gaped and stuttered as the images of her and Sandor kissing and touching in their hotel rooms flashed through her mind. They had been on the verge of having sex the night Tyrion come to their room. Sandor had kissed her softer than she had thought possible. His large hand had softly massaged her thighs and when he had brushed his thumb along her slick folds, she found that she was more than willing. She didn't know why she had hesitated. “He- It wasn't like that.”

 

“What are you trying to say, Sansa?” Blackfish asked insistently.

 

“He didn’t _force_ me to do anything!” Sansa blurted out angrily. Both of her uncles stared at her in horror and disappointment.

 

“Sansa is a grown woman,” Arys broke in.

 

“Shut the hell up, Oakheart,” Brynden snapped.

 

“I think Sansa has been through enough without having to explain everything in full detail right now,” Arys said defensively as he wrapped an arm around her and led her towards the stairs.

 

Sansa turned her back on her stunned uncles and began to ascend the steps towards the bedrooms. Halfway up she paused and turned to Arys. “I really need to take Arya something to eat.”

 

“I will bring the both of you something. Go rest, Sansa,” he said as he placed his hand gently on her back and urged her up the stairs. When they got to her room, Sansa turned to him and beamed up at him.

 

“Thank you, Arys. For sticking up for me. I guess after everything they are going to think of me as a little girl forever now,” Sansa sighed. “Did Sandor say anything? When he left?”

 

Arys looked at his feet and shifted uncomfortably. “Not really. Just something about needing a drink. You know, your uncles have a point. You could do much better than Sandor Clegane. You cant really blame your family for not approving of a romantic relationship. I know exactly how difficult it can be when someone's family doesn’t like you.”

 

“Arianne's dad is just old fashioned,” Sansa said soothingly. “He will come around.”

 

“Arianne and I broke up,” Arys said suddenly. “A while ago.”

 

“Wow. I hadn’t talked to Arianne in a long time but the last I heard, you guys were talking about getting married.”

 

“We had but the pressures of family got to be too much.”

 

Sansa shook her head and looked at Arys thoughtfully, “Well, she's missing out on a really great guy.”

 

Arys grasped Sansa by her good hand gently. “You know,” he began as he shifted on his feet again. “I know I'm really not much, Sansa and that I don’t come from a powerful family, but I think your family would approve of me.” Arys looked intensely and hopefully down at her.

 

“Arys... I....” Sansa sputtered.

 

“Just... think about it,” he said as he raised her hand and placed a small kiss on her knuckles. “Go rest. I will bring you something to eat.”

 

Arys turned and walked towards the steps at the end of the hall as Sansa struggled to wrap her head around what had just happened. Sansa couldn’t imagine Arianne and Arys not being together and she certainly couldn’t imagine being with Arys herself. He had always treated Arianne like royalty and he was obviously strikingly handsome. He was probably just what her family would approve of but Sansa couldn’t stop comparing him to Sandor. She had just gotten him back and now he was gone again. Her uncles had insulted him and thrown him out of Riverrun. She wondered where he had stormed off to and when she was going to see him again. A sudden pang of jealousy hit her as she imagined him in some dingy bar with some woman hanging all over him.

 

Sansa had changed into her pajamas when an idea hit her. It made her nervous to think about.

 

_That was something Arya would do, not me._

 

Sansa laid on her bed as her thoughts raced until a small tapping came from the door. Sansa got up to answer it and found Arys smiling meekly at her on the other side. In one hand, he balanced a tray with pasta and two wine glasses and in the other he held a bottle of wine.

 

“I didn't know if you might like some company, he said holding up the bottle of wine. “Just someone to talk to,” he added quickly.

 

“Thank you, Arys, but I think I am just going to eat and go to sleep,” Sansa said apologetically.

 

“Right, I'm sure you are tired,” Arys said a bit defeated. Sansa couldn’t remember having seen him so nervous before. “Goodnight, Sansa.”

 

“Goodnight,” she said as she began to slowly close the door. She got down on her hand and knees to peek through the crack at the bottom of the door. Arys' feet were still there, shifting nervously for a moment before he walked off in the direction of the stairs. Sansa sighed heavily and got up off of the floor. She crossed over to the table by the bed and scribbled a note onto a piece of scrap paper. She folded it and left it on the pillow of her bed. She struggled with her one good hand back into her clothes and opened the door a crack to look out into the hallway.

 

It was dark and deserted.

 

_Come on. You can do this._

 

She slipped out on tip toe and made her way silently towards the stairs. She heard hushed voices downstairs and located them as being in the living room. She could sneak down the stairs and through the kitchen if she was quiet.


	47. Admitting Yourself

 

Xxxxvi. Tyrion

 

It was pretty much the only bar in town. Tyrion had told Sandor that he would be there for most of the night before he would retire, inevitably drunk, back to his motel room. Neither Tyrion or Sandor expected the last remaining Lannister to be welcomed by Edmure to Riverrun. After an alarming number of scotches and by the sounds of it, Sandor hadn't been welcomed either. After all he had done for Sansa and he was met with only suspicion and contempt.

 

Tyrion wasn’t surprised when the large man had come stomping into the little dive bar radiating rage. Without a word, he had stormed up next to the barstool beside Tyrion and stolen his drink. The wizened bartender had look beyond merely alarmed but had kept his mouth shut. Tyrion had waved for another scotch to replace his and clapped Sandor on the back. Clegane had nearly jumped out of his skin and scowled down at him.

 

“Those Tully's are notoriously uppity,” Tyrion had consoled.

 

Sandor had given a huff that may have been his attempt at a bitter laugh as he drained his glass and demanded more whiskey.

 

Now, as they sat swaying on their seats, Tyrion had to squint and close one eye so he could make out the bills he was clumsily flipping through. The impatient bartender was barking something at him about closing time as he struggled to pay his tab.

 

“Clegane,” Tyrion slurred. “Help.”

 

Sandor stood up from his stool much more steadily than Tyrion would have thought possible and took the money from his outstretched hand. “Here,” he said in his deep growl. He handed Tyrion the rest of his money and slapped the total for the tab down on the bar.

 

“Excellent!” Tyrion exclaimed as he tried to hop down from his stool and stumbled. Clegane caught him and helped situate him upright. “Thank you, my good man. We both tried to drink away our troubles. Were you successful?”

 

“No,” Sandor said shorty.

 

“Me either. Drinking never hurts though. Well, not until you fall off of your stool and onto your face,” Tyrion said as they made their way outside. It wasn’t his sister and it certainly wasn’t his father but the death of his brother Jaime had hurt him. Tysha and his brother's betrayal. Podrick. Even Gendry, though Tyrion had hardly known the boy. All of it had crashed down on him tonight. Even liberal amounts of scotch hadn’t numbed him enough.

 

They had begun to walk towards the motel that Tyrion and Sandor were staying at when Sandor gasped beside him. “Sansa.”

 

“Yes, she is a lovely girl,” Tyrion said.

 

“No, Sansa,” Clegane said as he pointed ahead of them. Sansa was hurrying out of the lobby of the motel and straight towards Sandor's room.

 

“Ahh. She came for you,” Tyrion said as he smiled up at Sandor. “And you thought she didn't love you.”

 

Sandor shot a dirty look down to Tyrion before he looked back up to where Sansa was knocking on Sandor's door. He picked up the pace of his steps before he started to jog towards her. Tyrion took it at a leisurely pace to give them a moment and because he was too buzzed to be running anywhere. Except maybe a toilet.

 

“Sansa,” Clegane called out to her. She turned and saw him catching up to her. Tyrion heard Sansa say something and then make her way to meet Clegane halfway. Her face was lit up into a wide beaming smile as she jumped up and wrapped her arms around Sandor. He caught her effortlessly as she laughed and kissed him passionately.

 

Despite the depression that had consumed him earlier, Tyrion felt himself smile for them. Clegane was a fool if he couldn’t see how much Sansa loved him and he was an even bigger fool if he couldn’t admit that he loved her just as much.

 

He made his way past them towards his own room and averted his gaze. He felt like an intruder on this intense and private moment. As he passed them, he heard Clegane growl something between kisses.

 

“I love you so much, Sansa.”

 

 


	48. Now You Are Mine

 

Xxxxvii. Sandor

 

“I love you, Sandor.”

 

With those few words, Sansa had reduced him to the little boy he was the last time someone had told him that they cared for him. His sister was gone but Sansa was here in his arms and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

 

“I love you so much, Sansa.”

 

She was crying and laughing and kissing him back. He felt his own smile break the hard contours of his face and a deep relieved laugh come from deep in his chest. It almost hurt. He still couldn’t forgive himself for what he had subjected her to.

 

Sandor reluctantly broke away from her. “Sansa, what are you doing here? You should be with your family.”

 

Her face flashed with hurt. “I- I wanted to come see you. My uncles were horrible to you.”

 

“You are safer with them.”

 

“I thought you would be happy to see me.”

 

“Of course I am,” he said as he took in every feature of her sweet expectant face. “Come on. Lets go in. You are shivering.” Sandor scooped Sansa up completely and carried her back towards his room. She squealed and giggled. She curled up tightly against his chest like she was trying to steal all of his warmth. He felt his heart race when she nuzzled at his throat with her nose and planted a small kiss there.

 

Sandor was reminded of the last time he had carried her into a hotel room. The room had been much nicer. He could give her champagne and a huge bubble bath. This place was clean but it was simple and cheap. It was pretty much the only one in town. Besides, he didn’t know he would be having company in his lonely little room.

 

He set her on her feet and went to turn on the light. He shrugged out of his jacket as Sansa looked around the room.

 

“It isn’t much,” he said apologetically.

 

“It's like all of our other rooms,” she said as she kicked off her shoes and took off her own jacket. She crawled onto the bed and smiled innocently at him.

 

“Sansa,” Sandor began. “I...”

 

“What?” she asked him expectantly.

 

“I- Your family will worry about you.”

 

“I left them a note,” she said as she smiled deviously. “I sneaked out.”

 

“You are so naughty,” Sandor said as he rolled his eyes.

 

“I've never done anything like that before,” Sansa said seriously.

 

Sandor sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. She shouldnt be here with him. She should be with her family. She should be safe. She was never safe around him.

 

He felt her move on the bed behind him and move to put her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek and whispered into his ear. “I want to be with you.”

 

The guilt was consuming him. “Sansa, I have to tell you something.”

 

When he turned his head to look her in the eye, Sansa stole the words from him with a kiss. Her delicate tongue pushed its way into his mouth and made him forget what he was saying. Her hands snaked down his chest and made a chill run up his spine. Her touch was timid and nervous as she explored the contours of his stomach and chest.

 

_You have to tell her._

 

Sandor couldn’t remember ever wanting anything so much in his life.

 

_She will never forgive you._

 

The kiss and his resolve broke. Sandor got up from the bed and turned around to meet her. The woman he knew he didn’t want to live without. She looked up at him smiling nervously and backed up on the bed. He looked at her and saw that he could have her. She was offering him everything he had ever wanted. All he had to do was take it.

 

_You can take her and make her yours._

 

Sandor sank down on the bed on his hands and knees and crawled his way on top of her.

 

_She will be all yours._

 

She was breathing quickly and the he could imagine her pulse would be rapid and panicked. He brought his mouth down to her neck and kissed at her throat. She gasped in pleasure and pushed her body up into his. He propped himself up on one elbow and let his other hand wander her body. She moved with him and moaned appreciatively.

 

One last small part of his lust consumed mind screamed out at him and made him pause.

 

“Sansa,” he growled low to her.

 

“Yes. Please,” she purred. “More, Sandor.”

 

That was when the last shred on decency was buried underneath his animalistic need to be inside of her.

 

_She is begging for you._

 

Sandor stole her mouth fiercely with his own and pulled at her shirt. He broke the kiss to pull it over her head and watched her chest heave with her deep breaths. Her hair spilled out in a copper fan around her head. She was a vision. He pulled at her plain black bra and found one of her nipples hard and excited. He sucked it into his mouth while his hand worked at the button on her jeans. Sandor groaned with impatience but quickly had the button and the zipper open. He worked his hand down the front of her pants and between her legs.

 

She was wet and willing.

 

She gasped and moaned his name as he ran his large finger over her clit and into her opening. He pulled his mouth away from her nipple and rose up on his knees. He brought his other hand to her pants and pushed them down her legs. He pulled his hand away from her deliciously soaked pussy and pulled her pants all the way off. He threw them on the floor and watched her blush as he pushed her knees apart and exposed her to his greedy stares. He sucked her juices off of his finger and watched as her blush deepened. He pulled his shirt off quickly and couldn’t help but smirk while he watched her eyes lick at the hard muscles covered in scars and tattoos.

 

“I like your scars,” she almost whispered.

 

“You would probably be alone,” Sandor growled. Her admission had taken him off guard.

 

“They tell your story for you.”

 

He looked at her through the curtain of black hair that had fallen into his face and started to slowly unbutton his jeans. She looked down to where he was freeing his cock. He brought it out of his constricting pants in his fist. Her eyes widened and she blushed harder as she watched him stroke himself. He looked back down to her glistening opening and felt his cock get even harder. He stood up off of the bed long enough to shuck out of his jeans completely and quickly climb back on top of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down for a kiss. He felt the tip of his cock slide along her folds making Sansa gasp and steal the air from him. He pulsed his hips further against her and felt himself begin to push into her.

 

“Yes,” she gasped.

 

He slowly pushed his full length into her until her clit rubbed against his base. He groaned and began to push in and out of her tight hot body.

 

She moaned and met his steady rhythm with her hips. Her legs wrapped around him and pulled him in tighter. He felt her muscles tighten slightly around his throbbing cock as she closed her eyes tightly. Sandor quickened his pace and began to push into her harder and faster.

 

She moaned his name in his ear. “Oh, Sandor.”

 

He pushed harder into her until he felt her legs begin to tremble and she began to whimper. He felt a small drop of sweat run down his spine as he thrust into her.

 

“I'm close,” she mewled.

 

He growled in pleasure at her admission and felt his cock throb with the beginning of his own orgasm. Her hot cunt constricted around him as she reached her peak and rode out her orgasm with cries of delight. He felt himself tip over the edge and cum hard as he pushed down inside of her as deep as he could go.

 

Her legs shook around his waist as they breathed hard and enjoyed the waves of pleasure faded. She caught his eye and pulled him down for another passionate kiss. He smoothed her hair away from her dewy face and cupped her cheek.

 

_Now she was his forever._

 

… **...............................**

 

When he woke the next morning, Sansa's smooth naked body was curled up against him and wrapped tightly to him. Her slow steady breathing tickled the hairs on his chest as she slept peacefully.

 

The night had been what he had been wanting for so long and waking up with her was something he wished he could have for the rest of his life.

 

_You still have to tell her._

 

He felt her stir at his side and moan happily. “I thought you were a dream,” she mumbled into his chest. Her hands roamed the rise and fall of his chest. She looked up into his face beaming. Something about his expression must have betrayed his heartbreak. “What's wrong?” she asked as her smile faded.

 

Sandor took a deep breath. “Sansa, I have to tell you something.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok guys.... the next chapter is in the works but it will be the last chapter so it will take a little bit of time bc i want the end of this story to be as perfect as i can make it.


	49. A New Beginning

Xxxxviii. Sansa

_“Do you have to drag me along for all of this wedding shit?” Arya groaned at Sansa's side._

_“Arya!” Sansa gasped to her sisters reflection in the mirror. “I'm sorry that being fitted for my wedding dress would be so inconvenient for you.”_

_“I thought you were supposed to have your mother along for the fitting,” Arya sighed._

_“This is just the final fitting. She helped me pick it out,” Sansa said as she appreciated her dress in the mirror. She watched the dressmaker pin the hem and decided that a final fitting with her heels was a good idea. She would have tripped or had to have held the skirt up._

_“She lives for this girly shit.”_

_“She had to go talk to the florist. They were going to put carnations in my bouquet,” Sansa said disdainfully._

_“And that would be the worst,” Arya said with a roll of her eyes that did not escape Sansa. “I wouldn’t have complained about my bouquet.”_

_Sansa looked at Arya in the mirror as her sister looked down at her lap. It had been four years since Gendry had died and Arya still couldn’t let him go. She hadn’t dated and Sansa had the feeling that seeing her get married had to be hard on Arya. Maybe she shouldn't bring her along for all of her wedding errands._

_“Sansa, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” Arya asked as she looked up from her lap._

_“We love each other, Arya. He is perfect for me and I have never been so sure of anything in my whole life,” Sansa said certainly._

_Arya quirked up one of her eyebrows skeptically at her. “Are you sure about that?”_

_Sansa stiffened and trained her eyes down to her engagement ring and the scars covering her hand. “I'm positive,” she said confidently._

_Arya just nodded.“Were you coming with mom and I to lunch?”Sansa asked trying to change the subject._

_“Sure, I'm not going to pass up free food,” Arya said as she went back to her magazine. “Where are you going?”_

_“Mom wants to meet at the Lannisport,” Sansa said._

_“Fancy. Yeah, I'll come.”_

_“I think Robb is coming too.”_

_“Is he still walking you down the isle?”_

_“No. He was going to but that's before we knew about him being the best man,” Sansa laughed. “Edmure is going to walk me down the isle.”_

_“Robb is the best man?”_

_“Yeah. Wild, huh? They got really close when we were all in Sunspear.”_

_“I miss Sunspear. The beaches were great. Speaking of beaches, where are you guys going for your honeymoon?”_

_“We were going to backpack the Free Cities. I was hoping for something a little more luxurious but it can get so expensive. This will be more interesting at least.” Sansa conceded._

_“I got accepted to the Braavosi School of Art and Design,” Arya said shyly._

_Sansa whirled around as gasped. “That's great, Arya!”_

_“I start this fall,” Arya said with a shrug of her shoulders._

_Sansa smiled brightly. She knew her sister needed something that was her own. She had been in a rut since she had lost Gendry. It had been a hard four years for her whole family. Arya had lost Gendry, Robb had lost Jeyne and their baby, and they had all lost Jon, Theon and their father. This wedding was the start of her new life with her new husband and a silver lining to the dark cloud. Maybe getting out of Westeros was what Arya needed. Sansa wondered if it had anything to do with Jaqen but kept the curiosity to herself._

_When the dressmaker announced that she was done and that Sansa was free to leave, the dressmaker and Arya helped her out of her dress and Arya and Sansa left to go meet their mother at the Lannisport._

_“So I need you to be there tomorrow night for the dress rehearsal,” Sansa said as she opened the door to go into the Lannisport._

_“I know,” Arya said exasperatedly. “I have to pee. I'll be right back.”_

_“I cant believe I'm getting married next week!” Sansa squealed to the hostess waiting to seat them._

_“Awesome,” the girl said with a bored look on her face._

_“So,” came a deep growl from behind Sansa's shoulder. She jumped and turned around quickly to face him. “You two are getting hitched. I saw the write up in the newspaper.”_

_Sansa looked up in Sandor's twisted face. She hadn’t even noticed him standing there in the low lighting of the dim entrance of the restaurant. He took a step closer to her and she felt her pulse quicken._

_She hadn’t seen him in four years._

_Not since he had told her everything._

_“Yeah,” Sansa stammered. “Next week.”_

_“Sansa Oakheart,” Sandor sneered. “It's got a nice ring to it. Congratulations.”_

_“Thank you,” Sansa almost whispered._

_“Look, get a bottle of champagne and have them put it on my tab. You and your fiance can celebrate.”_

_“I'm here with Arya. We are meeting my mother and Robb,” she said quietly._

_“Ok,” he said simply. “Well, good luck next week. I hope he makes you happy.”_

_“Thank you. He does,” Sansa said definitely._

_Sandor nodded and opened the door to leave. Sansa took a deep breath and fought back an urge to cry._

_“God, those bathrooms are nice,” Arya announced loudly as she came back around the corner to wait for their table with Sansa. “What's wrong with you?” she said noticing the look on Sansa's face. Sansa had been staring out of the glass door where Sandor had just left her._

_“Nothing,” she said as she broke her gaze away and looked at her sister. “I'm just tired.”_

_“Well snap out of it. Is mom or Robb here yet?”_

_“No.” Sansa took another deep breath and glanced back to the door. She said goodbye one last time and smiled at down at her engagement ring again. Her mother and her brother walked in the door of the restaurant with her fiance in tow. Arys smiled at her and brought her in for a kiss._

_“This is a surprise!” Sansa squealed. She beamed up at her handsome fiance._

_“We are going to need to add another person to our party,” Arya directed to the hostess._

_“Yes, and please be sure to have that bottle of champagne sent to our table,” Sansa added._

_The hostess nodded and showed them to their table. They walked right past the table she and Osney had been at on their date. She looked at the bar at the spot that Sandor had been sitting at when he pulled her away and warned her about Osney. Someone else was sitting there. Just like she knew there would be._

_Sandor wasn't in her life anymore, but she still thought of him everywhere she looked. Even when she looked down at her beautiful ring, she saw the scars that she had blamed him for for years._

_She found she didn’t anymore._

_He had saved her too._

_“Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom,” she said suddenly as they were being handed their menus by their hostess._

_Sansa made her way to where the bathrooms were but kept walking quickly towards the door of the restaurant. She pushed it open and stepped out into the warm bright day._

_She looked left and then right._

_He was gone._

_…................................._

_I love you so much, little bird._

_“What did you say?” Sansa said as she turned her head to her new husband._

_Arys smiled at her. “I said, I love you.”_

_The warm Pentoshi breeze was flowing through the courtyard into their suite. The gauzy curtains billowed and flapped lazily and Arys' breathing was still labored from the exertion of their lovemaking. The faint sounds of the surf came in through the open windows but no other sounds disturbed them._

_Arys rolled onto his side and held her scarred hand. He kissed the knuckles and she smiled prettily at him. “So, Mrs. Oakheart, how do you like the room?” he asked her coyly as he fingered her engagement ring. Arys had surprised her with a villa on the coast of Pentosh instead of their backpacking session around the Free Cities._

_“It's perfect, Arys,” Sansa said sincerely._

_“Well, it was better than those shit holes you picked out,” Arys teased her._

_Sansa gaped at him. She mentally shook the rush of mental images of Sandor and her in their own hotel suite and smiled at Arys._

_She slapped him playfully on the arm. He laughed and got up from the bed. His smooth tanned skin rippled over the muscles as he stretched. The planes of his back and shoulders were perfect and unmarred. He was everything that Sansa had dreamed of marrying when she was a little girl. He was kind, funny, handsome. He was almost perfect._

_“God forbid you have to stay in anything as bourgeois as a Pentoshi hostel,” she teased back._

_Arys turned to her smiling. “What does that mean?”_

_Sansa laughed. “Nothing. It was a poor attempt at humor.”_

_“I think you are very funny,” Arys said as he leaned over and kissed her. “And clearly, too smart for me. How did I get so lucky?”_

_…................................_

_It was their last night in Pentosh before they flew back home and settled into their townhouse together._

_“I don’t want to leave,” Sansa moaned._

_“Me either,” Arys said as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in tightly. “Let's just stay here.”_

_Sansa laughed and drew lazy circles on his naked chest. “Lets order room service and stay in bed all night.”_

_“I'm not going to complain about staying in bed with you,” Arys said playfully._

_He grabbed her by her hips and pulled her on top of him. She felt his stiff manhood graze her lips deliciously. He reached his hand down and took himself in his fist. She rose up to position him at her opening. As she slid down the length of him, she shuddered and threw her head back in joy._

_I love you so much, little bird._

_“Mmm,” she moaned._

_Sandor._

_…............................._

_She had been seeing her therapist ever since they had come home from their honeymoon. She still had nightmares. Sometimes the only thing keeping her sane was her husband anchoring her when she woke in the middle of the night. He wrapped his protective arms around her and kept away the fitful dreams._

_One night, when she woke suddenly, Arys was not there._

_His side of the bed was still warm._

_Sansa took several deep breaths and crawled out of bed to find him._

_She found him on the couch, in the dark except for the glare of the TV as he flipped through the channels._

_“What are you doing in here?” she asked quietly._

_“You were talking in you sleep. It woke me up,” he said as he stared at the bright TV._

_“Im sorry. I was having a bad dream again.” Sansa tip toed around the couch and sat next to him._

_“I know. You said his name again,” Arys said with a dead panned expression._

_“Whose?”_

_“I think you know, Sansa. You say his name in your sleep sometimes. You said it while we were having sex in Pentosh.” Arys turned to her and she saw nothing but hurt in his eyes._

_Sansa's heart stopped. She was at a loss for words. She knew she had thought it. She never dreamed she had said it out loud. “Arys,” she said carefully._

_“I know I'm not Clegane, Sansa. But you would think that I could make you feel safe. I mean, he was the one that put you in the horrible position in the first place.” Arys scanned her face pleadingly. “I know he damaged you but it's not easy listening to your wife call his name in her sleep. How do you think I felt when you moaned his name while we had sex on our honeymoon?”_

_“Arys, I'm so sorry,” Sansa stammered._

_“Do you still think of him that much?” Arys was begging her now. He was begging her to tell him that she didn’t think of him consciously._

_“No.”_

_“I'm sorry I wasn’t the one to save you from that nightmare,” he said as he played with the remote in his lap._

_“You did,” Sansa said sincerely. “Arys, look at me.” Arys turned his sad eyes towards her again. “You did save me.”_

_She smiled sweetly for him and leaned in to kiss him. “Come back to bed. Please?”_

_…................................_

_“Is that your new favorite restaurant?” Sansa asked her mother._

_“I like their brunch. It has gotten so much better since Tyrion took it over,” Catelyn said as she opened the door to the Lannisport. “Besides, I have my own table, thanks to him.”_

_Immediately, Sansa's eyes went to the bar on the far wall of the open dining room. Sandor's spot was empty. She smiled to herself._

_Good._

_Arys hadn’t brought Sandor up again and Sansa had noticed the decline in his appearance in her dreams. Now, she dreamed of Arys and a family. She wasn’t ready for children, but her mother had practically been begging her to give her grandchildren._

_Arys had brought it up a time or two as well._

_“Arya is coming home this Thursday,” Catelyn told Sansa as they made their way to their table. “She is bringing Jaqen with her.”_

_Sansa laughed. She had a suspicion that the handsome Braavosi had influenced Arya's decision to go to school in Braavos. She was happy Arya had found a piece of her own happiness._

_Sansa didn’t look at the table she had sat with Osney at or towards the bar._

_If she had, she would have seen Sandor Clegane coming back from the bathroom and watching her smile at her new life._

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was a satisfying end to this long story that so many of you invested your time and emotions into. Im sure some of you will not be happy with a happily ever after Sansan ending, though. ;)
> 
> Thank you for everyone who left kudos or comments as i fumbled my way through this fic. (my first ever Sansan fic btw....) Thanks for the patience when i had long lulls between chapters. i never saw this ending coming but i am beyond happy with it. 
> 
> Again, thank you so much for all of the great support for this story. I had fun writing it!
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did.


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